


Is Anybody There

by SkyFireForever



Series: Life Doesn't Discriminate [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, F/M, Family, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Schizophrenia, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, the suicide is in the first chapter, you can skip the first chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-10-27 00:36:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 56,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17756432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyFireForever/pseuds/SkyFireForever
Summary: When John Laurens died, he never expected to wake up.He never expected to see the effects his death caused.He never expected to be forced to watch the Hamilton-Schuyler-Laurens family fall apart because of him.He never expected to be forced to watch his children grow up without him.All of his children, save for one.Angelica Hamilton could see her father, even after his death, she could still have her father in her life,John couldn't be sure if this was a blessing or a curse.





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter features suicidal thoughts, suicide, and homophobic language. It is not necessary to read this chapter. Skip this chapter if any of those things make you uncomfortable or could be potentially triggering.

Alexander and Eliza were absent with the children on a visit to Elizabeth’s father. John was left behind in New York. Alone. He understood why; of course. Her father wasn’t exactly open to the idea of her husband being in a romantic relationship with another man while still married to her. Polyamory didn’t sit well with certain people, despite it being explained repeatedly. Alexander shouldn’t love multiple people. He couldn’t love multiple people. He must love one more than the other. It was only natural. 

John closed his eyes and exhaled shakily. If Alexander had to chose, he would chose Eliza. There was no question in John’s mind about that. Eliza was the one he was legally married to. Eliza was the mother of his children. Eliza was a  _ woman.  _ What was John? He was just someone who lived with them. He was just the man Alexander slept with when Eliza was pregnant. He was nothing. He didn’t fit in. He didn’t belong in his own family. 

His hands gripped the sink so tightly that his knuckles went white as he fought back tears. If Alex was there, he’d pull him close and tell him that none of that was true; that he loved him and always would. He would tell him that he was valued, that the children needed him. Alex would reassure him if he was here, but he wasn’t here. Alexander was with his family. With his wife and children. Without John. Because John wasn’t part of Alexander’s family. 

Tears splashed into the sink, hitting the ceramic and sliding towards the drain before disappearing. They fell down the drain and through the pipes, never to be seen again, never to be thought of again. They were just tears. They were so insignificant. They were forgotten as soon as they were gone. John’s eyes fluttered open and he stared at himself in the mirror. His curls were a mess, tangled in long strands around his face. His eyes were red and tearstained. He was disgusting. He disgusted himself. He almost certainly disgusted Alex. 

He disgusted his father. He could still hear his father’s words ringing in his ears despite them having been said several years again. “I didn’t raise a fag!” John splashed water on his face, trying to get the words out. His father’s voice was suffocating, pulling him down, down, down, down. “Get out of my house! You’re not my son!” John could have sworn that the water seeped through his skin and caught in his lungs, choking him, drowning him. He was disgusting. Not even worthy enough for his own father. 

John didn’t know when his silent tears had grown to full out sobbing, but he found himself sinking to the floor. He clutched his head and rocked back and forth, clawing at his hair, tugging desperately, pulling. His chest clenched, no breath could force itself in. He was going to suffocate. He was going to die. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe he deserved to die. He deserved to die right here on his bathroom floor. His father would be so happy when he got the news. Alexander would be so relieved. His children would forget. The world was spinning. Spinning faster than John. It was flying by. Speeding. He felt sick. When had he started lying down? The tile was so cold. 

He took gasping breaths, tears running down his face and burning like lava. He was dying. Dying. Why couldn’t he just die already? He laid on the floor for what felt like hours, suffocating and crying. He knew that a panic attack couldn’t kill him, but he wished it could. His head slowly started to clear and he forced himself to his feet, gripping onto the sink for dear life. The world continued to wobble, making keeping his balance rather difficult. 

John knew what he had to do. He knew what would be best for his family. He just wanted to make them happy. He wanted to make them better off. He knew what he had to do to achieve that. He slowly exited the bathroom, approaching the bedroom. He pulled out the locked safe buried deep in the closet he shared with Alexander. Alex thought that he didn’t know the code, that he had hidden it away so John could never access what he needed. Alex was wrong. John slowly turned the dials until the numbers read what he needed them to. He eased the box open and wrapped his fingers around the handle of the pistol. 

It was the first gun his father had ever given him. A weapon not for hunting, but for hurting. A deadly weapon for John’s eighth birthday. He remembered how much he had cried, how his father had berated him for doing so. A man should rejoice in his first gun. He should feel proud. A man should never cry. That was one of the first rules Henry Laurens had taught him. 

The metal was cool against John’s palm. It was heavy. An uncomfortable weight. He’d always hated guns. He rose to his feet, returning to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, at the disgusting mess he was. He wasn’t worthy of life or love. He wasn’t worthy of anything.

Alexander would tell him that he was wrong. He would ease the gun from his hand. He’d beg him not to think such things. He’d tell him how important he was, how much he loved him. Alex would point out how far John had grown, how much therapy had helped, how the medication had helped. He’d remind him of the times before, when John had thought and acted, and failed. He’d tell him how scared he had been. He’d tell him that he needed him. Alex would be able to stop him if he were here. 

Alexander wasn’t here. John was alone. As he deserved to be. He closed his eyes and pressed the gun to his temple. He exhaled. Alexander deserved better. He deserved so much better. One press and he’d never open his eyes again. He never wanted to open his eyes again. He never wanted to look at himself again. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

He pulled the trigger.

 

 

 

His eyes opened. 


	2. Tears like Waterfalls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? Yes. This is extremely sad.

John’s eyes shot open. He blinked repeatedly at the harsh light shining from the lightbulb attached to the bathroom ceiling. It was such an ugly light. John hated the thing. He sat up, leaning on his arms. He stared at the light in utter confusion as his memories came rushing back. He shouldn’t have woken up. He had shot himself in the head. There was no way he could be alive. His head didn’t even hurt. Had it been a dream? He looked down and his chest seized up. His clothes were bloodstained. He rose his blood covered hands. It was everywhere. He swallowed harshly. Why wasn’t he dead? 

He forced himself to his feet, confused at his lack of pain. He heard his phone ringing distantly from the other room. He felt dazed, but not unwell. His body just felt numb. He couldn’t understand what had happened. He should probably go to the hospital. He stumbled towards the door, placing his hand on the doorknob. He tried to turn it, but it didn’t move. He frowned and tried again with no success. The knob didn’t show any sign of giving in. He groaned and banged his head against the door. Of course he had managed to trap himself in the bathroom. 

He turned around and froze immediately, feeling his blood run cold. The floor was stained red, as was the shower curtain and the walls. John had never seen so much red before. That wasn’t what caused his panic; however. Laying on the floor, in a pool of blood, was John himself. He was still, unmoving. The gun laid across his lifeless hand. His eyes were closed and his hair was matted with blood. There was a hole in his head. 

“No. No no no no no.” John knelt beside his own body, staring in disbelief and horror. It was definitely his body. It was definitely dead. He was dead. John scooted backwards, pressing his back against the door. This couldn’t be happening. This was impossible. He couldn’t be here. He had to be dreaming. There had to be some other explanation. 

He pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He couldn’t pull his gaze away. He was dead. He had killed himself. He was dead and he was still here. He closed his eyes, wanting desperately to force the image from his mind. He couldn’t do this. He shouldn’t still be here. If he was going to die, he didn’t want to stick around after he was gone. 

Was he in hell? Was this his hell? Was it punishment for what he did? Was it some sort of trick? He didn’t care. He didn’t care at all. He just wanted it to go away. He wanted to be actually dead. He wanted to disappear or go to hell or be reincarnated or anything but this. He didn’t want to be here. 

John wasn’t sure how long he remained in the bathroom, just hugging his knees and crying, rocking back and forth. He didn’t know what was happening. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted to take it back. 

“I’m sorry.” He choked out. “I take it back. I take it back. Please. Please, I don’t want to be dead. I want to fix it. Please.” He whispered, crawling back towards his body. He tried to grab his lifeless hand, tried to pull himself back into his body. He just needed to get back. He needed to fix this. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t move his body, but he couldn’t go through it either. The body felt solid, John just couldn’t affect it. He couldn’t do anything. “Please, I’m sorry.” He heard his phone ringing again, but he couldn’t get to it. 

He paced around the bathroom, having to way to escape. Was he just trapped in here for the rest of eternity? Was he just stuck? Was his own bathroom hell? He couldn’t stop crying. He wanted to take it back. It was a mistake. A mistake. He needed to take it back. He needed to fix this. Time blurred, he couldn’t say if he’d been in there for hours or days. He doubted that it mattered. 

There was a knock on the front door. John couldn’t answer it for obvious reasons. He looked up from where he was sitting in the bathtub. His blood ran cold, or he was sure that it would have if he had blood. He wasn’t sure how this new body worked, if it even was a body. The knocking continued. He couldn’t tell how long the knocking continued before he heard the door push open. 

“John?” A heavy, French accent traveled through the hall. John closed his eyes. Why was Lafayette here? “John, mon cher, where are you? Alexandre says you haven’t been answering his calls.” John felt his heart sink. Alex had been worried about him. He wanted Laf to check on him. God, he was such an idiot. Of course Alexander loved him. What was he thinking? 

Footsteps grew closer to the bathroom, followed by a knock on the bathroom door. “John, are you there?” There was a brief hesitation. “John?” The door creaked open and Lafayette stood in the doorway, worry on his face. John wanted to look away. He didn’t want to see this, but he felt like he had to. He couldn’t turn away. He sat frozen as Laf’s eyes widened and his mouth opened before his hand snapped to cover his mouth. He seemed petrified, unable to move just as John was. He dropped to his knees, his legs apparently giving out. Tears sprung to his eyes and he looked like he might be sick. “N-No.” He whispered, shaking. He fumbled in his pockets for his phone, dialing as quickly as he could. “H-Help. Help. I need- I need an ambulance. Please. Please, hurry.” He sputtered out the address, trembling from head to toe. “My friend- my friend has been shot! Oh mon Dieu. S'il vous plaît aider. S'il vous plaît.” His voice was pleading, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Lafayette crawled towards John’s body after hanging up on the emergency services. “John. John. Oh mon Dieu. John, please.” He dragged the body into his lap. “No. Non. You can not leave us.” He cupped the cold face in his palm, his tears hitting the body’s eyelids. “Please. Please. Dieu. Dieu s'il vous plaît. Rester. Reste s'il te plait.” He pressed his forehead to the lifeless one. 

“I’m here.” John stood, walking to Lafayette. “I’m right here. Laf, I’m here.” His voice broke, reaching out to wrap his arms around his friend. “I’m here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Lafayette continued sobbing, completely oblivious to his presence. John exhaled, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry, Laf. God, I’m sorry.” 

He couldn’t say how long they sat there, Lafayette clutching his lifeless corpse. The medics eventually burst in, dragging the body away. Lafayette stood stupidly, staring as this all happened. He seemed at a loss for what to do. He spoke briefly with a medic before bursting into tears and garbled French once again. Lafayette just stood alone in the apartment after the medics left. He seemed to be completely numb and afraid. 

The Frenchman slowly pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing another number with shaking fingers. He held it to his ear, staring at the bloodstained bathroom. “Alexandre? It’s John. He-” He couldn’t get the words out, dissolving back into tears and sliding to the floor. John could make out Alex shouting on the other end of the phone, but he couldn’t understand the words. 

John leaned against a wall, cursing himself and trying not to cry. He was an idiot. God, what would Alexander do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are the best thing in the world! I feed off them!!


	3. Waiting and Questioning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in one day? Apparently.

John followed Lafayette around for the next day. He watched as his friend wandered through his own life as a husk. John had never expected to have such a profound effect on his friend. The Frenchman seemed to be perpetually on the verge of tears, shaky and scared at all hours. He couldn’t sleep, laying awake at night and crying. In the hours that had passed since he had found John’s body, Lafayette must have cried at least three times each hour, sobbing even when there were no more tears to shed. He cried in the shower, he cried in the car, he cried in his bedroom. After shakily telling Alexander what had happened, he had called Hercules, who had quickly came over. John had never seen the large man cry as hard as he did when he had pulled Lafayette into his arms. 

Hercules refused to let Lafayette leave his sight. He stayed by his side from the moment he arrived. He hadn’t said more than a handful of words since Lafayette had called him. It was obvious how hurt he was. Hercules had removed all of the sharp objects from Lafayette’s house, hiding them in a closet. When Laf left to take a shower, with the door left open, Hercules had sat on the king-sized bed and sobbed violently. 

It was heartbreaking, seeing the large man trembling from his head to his toes, whimpering like a child into his hands. This was John’s fault. He had caused this. How had he been so selfish? He sat beside his large friend, placing a hand on his back. He wished that he could tell Herc that it was okay. He wished that he could feel his arms wrapped around him. Hercules always gave the best hugs. 

When Lafayette had walked out of the bathroom in a towel to be confronted by Hercules’ sobs, his own tears flooded through once again. The two of them had sat together, wrapped in each other’s arms, no words being shared between them. Just wordless and broken sobs until they decided to try and sleep.

Lafayette had spent all night crying into Hercules’ chest instead of sleeping. John didn’t feel tired at all, so he just sat and watched. He supposed that he no longer had a reason to feel tired, now that he was dead. The dead didn’t need to sleep. The next morning, Lafayette had spoken to Alexander more on the phone before telling Hercules that their friend was flying back in. He couldn’t afford a ticket for him, his wife, and all of the children on such short notice, so it would just be him. 

John was afraid. Would Alexander be angry with him? Would he hate him? Would he curse him? John couldn’t imagine Alex forgiving him. He hadn’t expected to be able to see how Alex reacted to his death and he really didn’t want to. It was hard enough seeing his friends completely break down because of him. Lafayette and Hercules were always so full of life and energy, but now they just seemed vacant. John tried to convince himself that it was only temporary, that they would feel better after they had time to adjust, but it was difficult to believe. 

Lafayette hadn’t even bothered to dress himself in his usual, flawless style. Normally, he wouldn’t be caught dead walking out of the house without at least an hour of preparation, but when he and Herc started towards the airport, he was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. He hadn’t even bothered to fix his hair. He looked like a completely different person. His curls hung lifelessly around his shoulders, his lack of usual makeup caused his face to look sunken and worn, he looked sloppy and tired. Those words were never made to describe Lafayette. 

When they pulled up to the airport, Hercules decided to pay for parking so they could meet Alex as soon as possible. The larger man held Lafayette close to his body, as if afraid to let him go. It occurred to John as they were walking that neither of his friends had eaten since this began. He hoped they would eat soon. They needed to take care of themselves. They made their way through to where they could wait for arriving planes. Lafayette was curled up in Hercules’ lap, seemingly unresponsive to the world. Hercules subconsciously played with his friend’s curls. 

John sat beside the pair, watching all of the people hurry past through the busy airport. He became painfully aware that each person who passed him had a life. Each person. He would never know their stories. He would never meet them, but they had lives. Each one of them. Some of them might die today. Others might be experiencing the best day of their lives. It was almost overwhelming. The world was so big and he was so small. He didn’t know if it made him feel worse or better about his death; knowing that it was so meaningless in comparison to the rest of the world. 

No one could see John. They were all busy leading their own lives. He was nothing to them. Just a dead guy that they didn’t know. He sighed and leaned back in the chair. It was odd that he couldn’t move through objects. Wasn’t that one of the main parts of being a ghost? All objects were just as solid as they were before, it was just as if he couldn’t press against anything. He had no strength, no friction. He simply couldn’t interact with anything. He sighed, tucking his hair back. Were there other ghosts? Was a ghost even what he was? He couldn’t be the only one. He couldn’t possibly be. Would he be able to see any other ghosts if they existed? 

Lafayette jumped up suddenly and John startled in his seat, glancing over. He froze as he saw Alexander making his way towards them. It took all of John’s effort not to cry right there. Alex had only known about John’s death for a day and he already looked so different. When John had spoken to him on video chat the day before he had offed himself, Alex had been full of life. He had been rambling excitedly about his newest project, going on and on without stopping. John had been content to just watch him. He always radiated so much energy. His smile was intoxicating. If there was one word to describe his Alexander, it would be energetic. 

This wasn’t his Alexander. This man was hollow, empty. His hair was messy, hanging around his shoulders limply. He was wearing his glasses, which were smudged and fogged. He didn’t seem to care at all. His shoulders were slumped and he stared at the ground. He shuffled forward as Hercules wrapped his arms around him. 

Alex collapsed into his arms, knees giving out. John ran forward, temporarily forgetting that he couldn’t catch his husband. As he moved closer, he saw that Alex had completely fainted, unconscious in Herc’s arms. John’s heart shattered and he couldn’t hold back tears any longer. He grabbed Alex’s hand, sobbing and kissing his knuckles. 

“I’m sorry. Alex, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispered. “I didn’t mean to do this. I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.” The hand slipped from his grasp as Hercules picked Alex up bridal style. 

Lafayette’s eyes filled with tears again. “We should take him home.”

“Not his house.” Hercules said gently. “There’s still blood. We can’t,” He shook his head. “It wouldn’t be good for him to see.”

Lafayette nodded, tears sliding down his cheeks. “Yes. We’ll taking him to my house.” The two of them began walking out of the airport, John following behind. He was so afraid of what would happen when Alex woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please comment!


	4. Memories and Mishaps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four chapters in one day? It must be your lucky day!

John was pacing in Lafayette’s living room, back and forth, back and forth. How could he do that? How could he have believed that Alex wouldn’t be affected? Of course he was fucking messed up. Alexander was depressed and it was all John’s fault. He had scarred his husband. 

Alex had been passed out for ten hours. Whenever he went to sleep after several days without, he would be out for a day straight. The normalcy didn’t calm John’s furious worry rising in his chest. He kept pacing around, glancing every so often at Lafayette, who was watching French television while sprawled across the couch. John doubted that he was actually watching it as much as he was just gazing distantly at it in an attempt to distract himself. 

The house was so cold. Whenever the four of them were together, it was always a party. There would be shouting and laughing and flirting. The air was always hot with friendship and joy. The air here was just stiff, unfeeling. He’d never known Hercules to be so quiet. He was sitting at Alex’s bedside, watching him rest. No one had spoken since they tucked Alexander into bed. It was so quiet apart from the meaningless chatter coming from the television. 

Hercules slowly crept out from the bedroom, closing the door behind him. “Hey.” He greeted Laf, who barely glanced up. 

“Hey.” He said numbly. “Is he okay?” He sat up. 

“Still asleep.” Hercules sat next to him, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close. “I can’t imagine that he is okay, though.” He sighed, closing his eyes. He looked exhausted. 

Lafayette nodded, looking down at his lap. “Of course not.” He whispered, shaking his head. “He’s lost so much and now,” He closed his eyes. “And now John.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t even cry anymore. I can’t. It  _ hurts.”  _

“I know, I know.” Herc didn’t let go of his friend, his voice shaking. “Fuck, I know. I can’t believe-” He squeezed his eyes closed, looking to be physically in pain. “I thought he was getting better.” His voice broke. “He seemed so much happier. He loved his family. His  _ children. _ I don’t understand what happened. He was working so hard.”

Lafayette curled up closer to Hercules, leaning heavily against his chest. He pulled his blanket tighter around himself. He looked so small and scared. “I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. I thought he was getting better too. I thought he was okay. I didn’t think he would try this again.” 

John sat on the sofa opposite the couch where his friends were speaking. They were sharing more words now than in the past two days. Hercules sighed. “Me neither, baby. Me neither.” He rubbed circles on Lafayette’s arm. “I don’t understand how he could leave his children.” 

John looked away guiltily. His children. They were so young. His oldest was only thirteen. He barely even knew Frances. She was the result of one night between two gay individuals trying to convince themselves that they weren’t gay. They were desperate and Christian. It had been a mistake. John had felt so guilty that he completely detached himself from his daughter. He hadn’t wanted to be part of her life. He had distanced himself and paid his child support. He barely had any interaction with her outside of that. He’d never wanted more. He had left her without even getting to know her. He buried his face in his hands. James was so young that he probably wouldn’t even remember him. Eliza was pregnant with another who would never even know him. He had left them entirely. How could he do this to them? They were so young. 

He cried into his hands, not bothering to muffle his sobs any longer. He knew that no one could hear him. There wouldn’t be a point in it. His poor children. They deserved so much better. He prayed that Alex and Eliza would raise them right. He knew they would. They were such good parents. 

“His children are so young.” Lafayette’s voice caught in his throat. “Mon Dieu, James is how old? Three? And Eliza has another little one on the way.” 

“He’ll never meet his father.” Alexander’s voice caught even John by surprise as his head snapped up. His voice was rough, scratchy. He looked like shit. He appeared very much like John imagined a caveman would have looked, hair wild and untamed, heavy bags under his eyes, unkempt stubble growing across his face. Alex had risen from his cave and he seemed to resent that fact. There were no tears in his eyes, not even a hint of sadness. He just looked so, so tired. 

“Alexandre!” Lafayette jumped up, running to him to clasp his hands in his own. “You are awake!” He forced a strained smile for him. Lafayette always wanted to keep people happy. ‘I am glad. Hercules and I were just talking-”

“About how my children will never see their father again, I know.” Alex sighed, pulling his hands away from Laf and rubbing his face. “I know.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.” 

Hercules had started to rise from the couch and shared a look with Lafayette. “Doesn’t matter?” He repeated slowly. 

Alex shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” He repeated. “There’s so much work to do. Paperwork. I was supposed to go back to work in three days. If I manage to get the funeral scheduled for one of my days off, I won’t have to miss any work. I have to get this plan through anyway. I can’t afford to waste any time. This changes nothing.” He started pacing. He had the voice of when he was very determined to get something done. “I could schedule it for Sunday. I’m off Sunday. How long do funerals take to prepare? I’ve never been to a funeral. Not a real one. I mean, my mother’s, but I don’t remember that at all. It’s going to be so expensive. If it takes too long, we could schedule it for next Sunday. That could work.” He was rambling and pacing, a deranged look in his eye. 

John felt his heart sink in his chest. Was that really what Alex was worried about? The paperwork? He didn’t really mean that, did he? Was his death just one big inconvenience? He swallowed harshly, trying to ignore the stinging in his chest. 

“Alexandre, mon cher.” Lafayette reached out to take hold of his arm. “You can not deflect this way. He would not want this.” 

Alex yanked his arm away, glaring. “I’m not deflecting!” He deflected. “I’m just frustrated at what a piece of work this is all going to be! Someone’s going to have to tell his father. It’s not going to be me. I’m done dealing with that piece of work. He won’t care anyway. No one should tell him. I should make a list. His siblings should probably know, at least.” He was shooting off at the mouth again, never one to hesitate. 

“Alexandre…”

“So, there are his siblings. How many of those does he have? I’ve barely met them.” Alexander resumed pacing. “His father. He’s probably got shit of his and probably has some stupid rights or whatever. Then, Martha. I’ll have to tell Martha. Are we expected to continue paying Frances’ child support without him?” 

“Alexandre.” 

“His mother died a long time ago, so that’s not an issue. Washington will probably want to know. He might tell everyone else. Uhg. Oh well, he’ll take care of that. Who else? Eliza is already telling her sisters.Did he have friends outside of us? I don’t think so, but I’m not sure. I think that’s everyone important. Laurens really didn’t-”

“Alexandre!” Lafayette snapped, tears in his eyes. “Do not do this. Do not do this to him!” His breathing was harsh and uneven. “You will not do this to him. You will not treat him like he is such a- a- an inconvenience for you!” His accent thickened, as it always did when he was angry. “You will not! You can not!” His voice broke and he burst into tears again, Hercules wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him up. “He deserves better. He deserves better than this.”

Alexander rolled his eyes. John felt a flash of anger. How could he just roll his eyes at his best friend’s clear and obvious distress. “If he didn’t want to be an inconvenience than he shouldn’t have done it.” He said coldly, shaking his head. “He clearly didn’t care. He gave me all his work.” He exclaimed, frustrated. John couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Of course he cared! How could he not care? He was Alexander’s  _ husband.  _

Lafayette started sobbing harder, unable to form words. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, but no sound came out besides whimpers and choked out noises that were caught in his throat. 

“Was there a note?” Alex asked matter-of-factly. “A note of some sort? A letter? Anything like that?” Lafayette just shook his head, unable to speak. “Of course not.” He huffed. “That would make an explanation just too easy, wouldn’t it? He just had to make things more difficult.” He shook his head and grabbed his coat.

“Alex, stop.” Hercules didn’t leave Lafayette’s side, but his tone was commanding. “Stay. You’re not going anywhere. Sit down.” 

“I am going-”

“I said, sit the fuck down!” Hercules snapped, glaring at Alex, who immediately snapped his mouth shut. “You’re staying here, where we can keep an eye on you. For the next week, at least.” 

Alexander crossed to the sofa where John happened to be sitting and plopped himself upon it. John felt his breath catch in his throat at how near he was. “Don’t be stupid. Eliza and the children are coming in tomorrow, as was originally planned. Once they’re here, I can go home and work on fixing this mess.” 

“This is not something that can be fixed, Alexandre!” Lafayette shrieked, seeming to get more worked up with every second. “He is  _ gone!  _ He was my  _ friend!  _ He was your  _ husband! _ He is gone! Forever! He’s-” He broke down again, burying his face firmly in his hands as he cried. 

Hercules looked so sad, rubbing Lafayette’s back. “Eliza will have her hands full with the children. She can’t keep track of you too.”

“I’m not a child! I don’t need to be babysat!”

“But you need to be looked after.” Hercules’ tone became gentle. “Anyone would need to be looked after. Your husband just shot himself,” Lafayette let out a pitiful sob. “You need your friends. You have your laptop, you can work from here.”

Alexander huffed, but didn’t protest further, crossing his arms. Hercules led Lafayette to his room to comfort him, leaving John alone with  Alexander. He looked over at his husband, who just sighed and threw his head back. John’s chest tightened. He couldn’t help but wonder if Alex even loved him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are the best part of my day and make me want to write more! Seriously, one person has been commenting on every chapter and that's why I've written so much today.


	5. Children and Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five chapters in one day. I promise that this is the last one for today. This is a record.

John was apprehensive about seeing his children after what he did. They were so young. What would they think? Would they be angry? Would they not care? There was really no way of telling and that scared the shit out of John. He loved his children. He adored them. He couldn't imagine putting them through this. God, how could he do this to them? 

He almost didn’t accompany Lafayette, Hercules, and  Alexander to the airport. He was almost too afraid. He wanted to put it off. He didn’t want to have to face them. This entire event was so unfair to the children. He was certain that he was the most terrible father in the world for leaving them as he had. 

He couldn’t just avoid them; however, so he found himself sitting in the back seat of Hercules’ truck beside Alexander, who was still typing away on his computer. He hadn’t put it down since the previous evening. He hadn’t even slept, but that wasn’t particularly uncommon for the insomniac. John had stayed with him all night, watching him draft emails and documents and try to catch up on work he was missing. He never stopped for an instant. He never cried. It was almost refreshing, to be around someone who didn’t cry every other moment, but it was also discouraging. It seemed to prove that John was right about Alexander being better off in the long run. After all, if he was more frustrated over paperwork than he was sad about him dying, he must not have loved him. 

As they pulled into the airport after paying once again for parking, John took a deep breath. How would Eliza react? While he never felt any romantic attraction towards her, the two were still friends. They lived in the same house, had the same children, and were married to the same man. It would be impossible for them not to be close. Eliza rarely was the type to get angry, but she had such a sadness to her at times. John wasn’t sure he could bare it.

He sat on a chair beside his husband, who was still typing away at record speeds. If he didn’t slow down, John was certain that he would break his keyboard. Lafayette and Hercules kept sharing glances and were clasping hands. 

“Alexandre, please put the computer down.” Lafayette requested softly. “Please.” 

Alex shook his head. “Can’t. I’m busy.”

“Alex, put the fucking laptop away.” Hercules snapped the computer closed and pried it from Alex’s fingers. “You’re obsessed with the damn thing.” He grumbled, setting it underneath his chair. “You need a moment to just sit down and wait.”

“I hate waiting.” Alex muttered petulantly, slinking further into his seat. “Waiting is for losers. You get nothing for waiting.” He continued rambling under his breath until Eliza with a train of children came into view. 

Elizabeth looked tired, but barely more so than usual. Being the mother of five children and pregnant with a sixth tended to wear a woman out. She was holding James in her arms, who was preoccupied with a stuffed turtle toy that John had given him. His chest clenched at the memory. Alex Jr. was running ahead of the others, racing Philip to get to their father. He was jeering about how he could beat him, despite Philip being older and having longer legs. Philip, never one to back down from a challenge; not even one initiated by a five year old, was quickly pulling ahead of him despite the head-start he had granted his brother. Fanny was giggling at her brothers, staying close to her adopted mother’s side. Little Angie was holding her mother’s hand and skipping merrily. They all looked happy. Like children. Where everyone else seemed to have been changed by what John had done, his children were still just children. 

His heart filled with warmth upon seeing them. He had missed them. He had missed them so much. God, they couldn’t even see them. He would never be able to read them to sleep again. He’d never be able to bandage a cut or cuddle them after a nightmare. He couldn’t be a father to them anymore. He was just an outside observer. That hurt him more than anything else. He wanted to be there for his children, at least. He just wanted that. They deserved better than him, but they were the best parts of John’s life. They always were. 

“Ha! Told ya I’d win!” Philip spun around, sticking his tongue out at his younger brother. 

“No fair, you’re taller!” Alex Jr. whined. 

“I gave you a head-start!”

“You cheated!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Boys.” Eliza made her way to the group with a shake of her head. “Please.” She sounded more exhausted than John knew her to be, even with raising several children. “Just call it a tie.” 

“But-”

“He-”

“Please.” Eliza collapsed onto a chair, still holding James on her lap. “What a flight.” She smiled weakly at Lafayette and Hercules. “I was hoping to get some sleep, but that was some very wishful thinking. The whole ride was bumpy and Angie felt sick and I felt sick.” She rested a hand on her baby bump. “I need a nap.” She exclaimed, running a hand through her long, dark hair. “Also, hello, Laf, Herc. It’s good to see you.”

Hercules chuckled. “It’s good to see you too, ‘liza.” 

“A pleasure, as always.” Lafayette kissed her knuckles. There was a hint of his old charm returning to his voice, but it seemed so out of place when he was so clearly taken such poor care of himself. He hadn’t showered in three days, a thought that would have caused him to shower immediately upon even the suggestion under any other circumstance. There were the hints of bags under his eyes, his hair was greasy, his clothes hadn’t been changed out of. He truly looked like a different man. His goatee was growing shaggy and unkempt, his curls were flying out of control, and he hunched. Lafayette had always chided John about hunching, telling him that everyone must always carry themselves with respect. Lafayette had seemingly forgot his own rules. He hadn’t slept at all since he found John’s body. Not a wink. He would lie in bed next to Hercules sometimes, but he never slept. Every time he closed his eyes, they’d immediately shoot open again and he’d look so frightened. He’d clutch the nearest person to him, which usually happened to be Hercules, and he held on tight. He just seemed so different now. Like from the moment he had opened that bathroom door, he had become someone else entirely. 

Eliza laughed. “A flatterer, as always.” She teased, attempting to keep the air light. It was the closest thing to true normalcy that John had seen since he died. The greetings, the children playing, the banter. It was normal. He could almost pretend that nothing had happened at all. That he was just enjoying an afternoon with his family and friends again. 

“Uncle Herc!” Philip threw his arms around the tall man. “Hi! You can still pick me up, can’t you?”

“I dunno, you’ve gotten pretty big.” Hercules laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair. 

Philip made a face. “I’m only nine! You can do it! Come one! You’re the strongest there is!”

Hercules laughed. “I can try.” It was the first genuine smile John had seen cross his friend’s face in several days. He lifted Philip up and into his arms. “Whoo, you’ve gotten heavy.” He pretended to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“I’m not that big!” Philip protested with a pout. “Hey, Uncle Laf, did you bring Georges? Is he here?” 

Lafayette looked over and shook his head. “Ah, non.” He said simply. He was still more reserved than the rest seemed to be. 

“Aw. Why not?” Philip whined, sagging in Hercules’ arms until he put him down. “Georges is the best!”

“He simply...is not.” Lafayette looked down, seemingly put off by the interrogation. 

Philip opened his mouth to continue, but Hercules quickly diverted the subject. “So, Phil, how was your trip?” He asked. 

“It was awesome!” The boy lit up. “Grandpa is always really fun and we-”

“Daddy!” Angie came running directly towards John, a huge grin on her face. “Daddy, I missed you! Mommy said that you weren’t coming back!”

John froze, staring down at his daughter, who was gazing up directly at him. His heart started beating faster in his chest. He pointed at himself. “Me?” He whispered. He hadn’t used his voice in so long. There hadn’t been a point to it. 

“Of course; you, Daddy!” Angie giggled, moving to wrap her arms around her father. To his surprise, her arms fit around him, as if he was physically present. He couldn’t believe it. Angie could see him. Was this over? Was he visible again? Was he alive again? Had it been fixed?

He looked around at the others, but most were still in their own conversations. Alexander was back on the computer. No one else seemed to notice him. He squatted down so he was eye level with his daughter. “You can see me, Angie?”

“Of course; I can see you, Daddy!” The girl smiled so brightly. “You’re right here!” She poked the tip of his nose and he felt tears sting at his eyes. His little girl could see him. His little girl could talk to him. He pulled her close, wrapping her in a tight hug. It was his first hug since his death. He began sobbing, just clutching her tightly. He had his little girl. “What’s wrong, Daddy?” She asked in concern as she pulled away, tilting her head to one side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Daddy’s okay.” He quickly wiped his eyes. “I just missed you.” He cupped her face in his hand. “I just missed you so, so much.” He sniffled and forced a smile for her. A million thoughts were racing through his mind. Was Angie the only one who could see him? Why was it just her? It didn’t make sense. He was just thankful that he didn’t have to be alone. 

“Angelica?” Eliza called to her daughter, causing her to look over. “Who are you talking to, sweetheart?”

“Daddy!” Angie said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You said that Daddy wasn’t coming back, but he’s right here!” All eyes turned to Angelica. The children’s were mostly confused. Lafayette’s were pure fear or possibly with some nausea. Hercules’ were just plain pity. Eliza’s were full of concern. Alexander barely glanced up from his laptop. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Angelica. Your father isn’t here.” Alexander stated bluntly. “He’s gone. You’re talking to one of your imaginary friends.”

Angie looked so confused. “No. No, I’m sure it’s Daddy! He’s right here. Right, Daddy?” She looked up at him with such trusting eyes. 

“I’m here. I’m here, Angie.” He assured her. “I’m here. They just can’t see me right now.”

“Why can’t they see you?”

“I don’t know, angel. I wish I did.” He said honestly. “I wish they could.” 

Alexander snapped his laptop shut and stood. “That’s enough. Angelica, stop talking to yourself and let's go.” He snapped, seemingly irritated. 

“I’m not talking to myself!” Angie persisted. “I’m talking to Daddy! He’s right here! You just can’t see him right now.” 

“Your father’s dead! You’re never going to talk to him again! Grow up and get over it!” Alexander turned and yelled, causing Angie to recoil in fear. John was shocked, stood frozen to the spot. He’d never seen Alexander so much as raise his voice with the children. He could yell and scream and be nasty in a fight, but not to them. Never to the children. He breathed heavily and turned around. “We’re going home.” He continued walking towards the exit. Eliza scooped Angie into her arms after handing James off to Hercules. John found himself trailing behind as Angie watched him from behind Eliza’s shoulder. She was scared and confused. 

And so was he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please give comments and feedback! I'm working so hard on this and enjoying it!


	6. Missing You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New day, new chapter! Thanks to everyone who have left such wonderful comments! You have made me so, so happy and you are the reason why I've written so much so quickly! This is already one of my longest fics and it's only been two days! You guys are amazing!

Alexander’s behavior didn’t change over the course of the next day. He buried himself in his work, snapping at anyone who even made an attempt to speak with him. He was cross and frustrated and annoyed. Not sad. Not depressed. Just annoyed. 

The Hamilton-Schuyler-Laurens family moved in with Lafayette until they could get someone to clean their own house. Lafayette still appeared a mess. He would force smiles, try to play with the children, but his eyes were still empty. He still put no thought into his appearance. He still couldn’t sleep and cried when no one was around. Hercules seemed to be fairing marginally better. He could genuinely laugh with the children. He could banter with Eliza. But there were still the long periods of silence from him, his uncharacteristic quiet. He still cast worried glances at Alexander and Lafayette. There were still the moments where he was clearly struggling. Eliza was as nurturing as ever, prioritizing the children above all else. She seemed well put together. However, there were the moments that only John saw. He had caught her crying in the bedroom when no one was around. There were occasions where she stared distantly at a wall or any fixed point, not seeming to be entirely there. She appeared to be more distant, clearly struggling to live in the moment around her. 

The children all had mixed reactions. Most were too young to fully understand what was going on. Philip behaved mostly as he always did, headstrong, loud, and competitive. He very much seemed not to even notice the lack of his father’s presence. He never remarked upon it and ignored whenever one of his siblings brought it up. He didn’t dwell on it for even a moment. Fanny appeared more confused. She asked her mother when her father would be back. John had watched as Eliza patiently explained - as she clearly had times before - that he wouldn’t be coming back. She still didn’t seem to understand that. Alex Jr. was as carefree as always. He didn’t fully grasp the idea that John wouldn’t be returning. He simply talked of his father’s death in a matter-of-fact manner. It wasn’t something that he seemed to mind in any way. Little James kept asking for him. He’d ask Eliza for his daddy, would go looking for him. He was too young to understand. Too innocent. It broke John’s heart to watch him. 

And then there was Angie, who couldn’t understand why the rest of her family acted like John wasn’t there. She spoke to him openly, trying to point out his existence to the others. Every time she brought him up, a sadness appeared in Eliza’s eyes. Alexander had retreated to one of the bedrooms, focusing more on work than his children. 

“Phil, can’t you see him?” Angie reached forward to tug on her brother’s hair. “Daddy’s right here.” She pointed to where John was standing. “You can see, right, Phil?” Philip blatantly ignored her, pretending not to hear. His attention was entirely to the television. “Phil. Phil.” Angie continued poking him. 

“Will you shut up?” Philip hissed, clearly annoyed. “I’m trying to watch!”

Angie pouted. “But Phillll.” She whined, not ceasing in her pestering. “Don’t you wanna talk to Daddy?”

“Daddy isn’t here!” Philip snapped, turning to face her. “Daddy’s gone, just like Papa said. He’s not coming back.” Tears started to fill his eyes and John’s heart sunk. 

“He’s right here! Daddy, tell him!” She turned to John with pleading eyes. She just wanted everyone else to see her father. She was so young. She couldn’t understand why no one else could see him. It didn’t make sense. 

Philip shook his head. “Shut up!” His hands balled into fists at his sides and his eyes squeezed shut tightly. “He’s not coming back! He left and he won’t come back! He doesn’t love us!”

John felt as though he had been shot. He stared in disbelief at his son, feeling sick. Did Philip really believe that? Of course he loved him. He loved him more than the world itself. How could he say that? John didn’t understand. He stepped closer to the boy. 

“That’s not true!” Angie protested. “Daddy loves us very much!” 

“If he loved us, he wouldn’t have left!” Philip rose from the couch, hot tears splashing onto his freckled cheeks. “But he did leave! He left because we weren’t good enough! He didn’t want us!” 

John had a lump in his throat and tears behind his eyes. “No.” He whispered. No, no.” He reached up to cup his son’s face. “Of course I love you. It’s not your fault.” He knew that his words were falling on deaf ears, but he just wanted to reach out. He desperately needed his son to understand that none of this was his fault. 

“He just said that he loves you!” Angie insisted. “He just said it! He said that he loves you and it isn’t your fault!”

“Just stop!” Philip shook his head, hands shaking. “Stop it!” He fled to the bedroom where he was staying, slamming the door shut behind him. Everything was silent, all eyes on the door behind which Philip had just disappeared. There was tension in the air. 

“But he did.” Angie’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Daddy just said it. Why can’t you see?” She glanced at Eliza. “Why can’t anyone see Daddy?”

Eliza rose and pulled Angie into a tight hug. “I don’t know, baby. I don’t know.” She whispered, running her fingers through her daughter’s hair. She took a breath and made her way to the bedroom, knocking on the door. “Philip? May I come in?”

“Go away!” His voice was muffled and shaky. He was clearly still crying. 

“Phil, please. I just want to talk to you.” Eliza urged gently. “Please.” She tried the knob and found it unlocked. She stepped inside and John barely managed to slip in after her before she closed the door. She sat beside her son, who was curled up in a corner. 

He sniffled, his eyes red. “I said go away.” His voice held no real bite to it. He just sounded so small and hurt and sad. “I don’t wanna talk.” 

Eliza pulled him into a hug. “Why do you think your father didn’t love you? He adored you. He was always so proud of you.” 

“No.” He shook his head, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “If he loved me, why did he go away? He didn’t have to leave. He didn’t have to.” He burst into another round of tears, burying his face in Eliza’s side. “Why didn’t he stay?”

Eliza swallowed, blinking tears out of her own eyes. “Philip, it wasn’t your fault. He loved you. He loved you so, so much. He never wanted to leave you.” 

“But he did!” He protested, clutching Eliza’s dress. “He did leave! He wanted to leave!” 

“No.” Eliza pulled away and cupped her son’s face in both of her hands. “No, he didn’t. He was sick. He was very sick. He was getting better, but he just got bad again.” She took a shaky breath. “He was sick. He died because he was sick. It’s no one’s fault.” 

“It’s my fault! It’s his fault! He wasn’t sick! He killed himself! He didn’t have to kill himself!” He let out a choked sob. “He didn’t have to! He didn’t want to stay with us!”

A few tears escaped Eliza’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “No. No, baby.” She pushed his hair back. “He loved us. He never wanted to go. He didn’t. He wasn’t himself when he did this. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t.” She insisted. “He loved us. He did.”

Philip sobbed brokenly, hanging onto his mother for dear life. “I want him back. I want him to come back.” He whispered. “I just want my daddy. I want Daddy.” 

“I know. I know.” Eliza pulled him close, cupping the back of his head. “I know. I want him back too. We all do.”

“Papa doesn’t.” He said, his entire body trembling. “Papa doesn’t care. Papa doesn’t miss him.”

Eliza shook her head. “Oh, Phil.” She whispered softly. “He misses him so much. So much. He just doesn’t want to think about how much he misses him because it hurts. Your papa doesn’t want to hurt, so he doesn’t want to think about it.”

“Angie keeps talking like she sees him. She doesn’t. She doesn’t see him. He’s gone.” 

“I know. I think she’s just confused.” Eliza sighed. “She doesn’t want to believe it, so she doesn’t. She’s just trying to cope.”

“It’s not fair. It’s not fair.” Philip pulled away, snot dripping from his nose. “None of this is fair.” 

“You’re right.” Eliza wiped her own eyes, which had shed tears of their own. “None of this is fair. It’s not. Sometimes that’s how things are. Sometimes it’s not fair.” She rocked her son back and forth. 

John watched as the two of them just sat together in silence only broken by Philip’s muffled sobbing. A few tears rolled down his own cheeks as well. This is what he had done to his family. This was all his fault. He just wanted to pick his son up and hold him close, tell him how much he loved him. He would never get that chance again. He exhaled shakily, closing his eyes. God, he should never have done this. What an idiot he was. 

Eliza and Philip eventually exited the bedroom, hand in hand. The boy remained as close to his mother as was humanly possible. She resumed her seat on the couch, pulling her son into her lap so she could start braiding his hair. 

The door to the main bedroom swung open and Alexander stepped out. He had dark bags under his eyes and he was wearing his nicest coat. His hair was brushed and conditioned, his glasses were polished. He looked nice. He was carrying his work case and heading towards the door.

“Alexander, what are you doing?” Eliza frowned. 

“I have so much work to do. Washington expects me back.” He opened the front door. 

“You can not seriously be about to return to work!” Lafayette stared in disbelief. 

Alexander was already out the door. John hesitated a moment before following him out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please continue leaving comments! They will keep me writing!


	7. Work Like You're Running Out of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter today! There might be another out this evening! I have the next chapter planned, I just have to actually write it.

Alexander walked into his office and took a seat at his desk. He logged into his computer and immediately got to work as he would have if he had never taken vacation. It was as if he’d never left. His eyes darted from his stack of paperwork to the words across his screen. In less than a minute, he was absorbed in his work. John sat at a chair residing behind Alexander’s desk, simply watching him. He couldn’t understand how his husband was so unaffected. Did he really not care? Did he miss John at all? It hurt to think that he didn’t. Maybe John’s stupid, depressed thoughts were right. Maybe Alexander really was better off. 

Half an hour in, Washington made his way to Alexander’s desk “Hamilton.” Alex didn’t even seem to notice his boss. “Alexander.” He tried again, with no response. “Hamilton!” He snapped, dragging his employee out of his stupor. 

“Huh?” He glanced up at his boss. “Can I help you, sir?” 

“I expressly ordered you not to come into work today.” Washington crossed his arms, but his eyes held no anger, simply concern. “You shouldn’t be at work. You should be with your family.” 

That was clearly the wrong thing to say, as Alexander’s expression immediately soured.  “My family is just fine without me, sir. You asked me not to come in because you feared my inability to work to my full potential. I assure you, sir, I am perfectly fine to work. I have to catch up on what I missed when I was away.” 

“Hamilton, I’m not worried about your capabilities-”

“Then what is the problem, sir?” There was venom in Alex’s voice, a spark of daring. He was tempting Washington to challenge him. 

“I’m worried about  _ you.”  _ Washington exclaimed with a sigh, resting a hand on Alexander’s shoulder. “Alex, listen. I understand not wanting to think about it. I understand burying yourself in your work easier than facing the reality of what happened, but you can’t do this.”

“I’m just doing my job!” Alexander yanked his arm away. “I don’t have a problem with facing anything! I came here to work and that’s exactly what I intend to do. If you have a problem with that,  _ sir _ , you can fire me.” He spat the word “sir” like it held a bad taste in his mouth. 

Washington looked taken aback, but seemed to realize that he wasn’t about to change Alexander’s mind. “Okay.” He conceded. “Okay. If you need to go home, you don’t have to ask. You can just go. You’ll be paid for your time off.” 

Alexander quickly shook his head and returned his attention to his computer screen. “That will not be necessary, sir.” 

Washington sighed and hesitated before turning to return to his own work. John watched him exchange brief words with Burr before entering his own office. Burr took his spot at his desk directly beside Alexander’s, continuously glancing up and over at him. John figured that Washington probably ordered Burr to keep an eye on Alex. John sighed and leaned back, watching Alexander work right on through his lunch break. He didn’t seem to plan on stopping anytime soon. 

Jefferson sauntered over just after the lunch period had ended. He leaned his elbow against Alexander’s desk, resting his chin in his palm. “The office has been rather quiet lately.” He remarked, a teasing smirk on his lips.His southern accent seemed to pour from his lips like honey. “Don’t ya think, James?”

John hadn’t even noticed the much shorter man by Jefferson’s side. “Well, I think-”

“We could use some entertainment!” Jefferson cut the portly man off without hesitation. “Come on, Hamilton, don’t keep us in suspense. You’ve been absent for so long and you come back mute? What on Earth happened to you while you were away?”

Alexander’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond, still typing away at his keyboard. Now this was unusual for him. For as long as John knew him, Alexander never hesitated to rise to the bait of provocation. 

“What’s this? Nothin’ to say? How dreadful.” Jefferson pouted, over-dramatic as always. “Don’t ya think so, James?”

“Well, I think-”

“I mean, Hamilton is never this quiet!” He situated himself so he was sitting cross-legged on top of Alexander’s desk. “It’s rather unsettlin’. It’s so boring in here without 'im. We missed 'im so dearly, didn’t we, James?”

“Actually-”

“Now, Hamilton, do speak up.” He reached over to take Alexander’s keyboard playfully, but Alex jumped up, sending his chair flying behind him.

“Shut the  _ fuck  _ up, Jefferson!” He was scathing. “Don’t you fucking talk to me about how I’ve fucking changed! You don’t know shit! You don’t know anything at all!” In a fit of rage, he grabbed the cup holding all of his pencils, pens, and other such supplies, and hurled it at Jefferson’s head, sending writing utensils flying everywhere. “I came here to do my fucking  _ job _ which is more than most people would do! If this had happened to Adams, he would have never fucking came back! Adams doesn’t work half as hard as I do! None of you work half as hard as I do! This changes nothing! Nothing! It doesn’t matter!”

Jefferson was completely taken aback, walking several steps away from Alexander with his eyes blown wide. “What on Earth are you talkin’ about?” His brows furrowed together and he seemed almost frightened. 

“This doesn’t change anything!” Alexander’s eyes squeezed shut. “Just because he’s gone-” His glasses slid down his nose and clattered to the ground. He seemed to stop entirely in his tracks, eyes flying open and staring at the ground. “H-He’s gone.” The words came out in a whisper, barely being carried on a breath. His legs gave out and he collapsed onto his knees. He started trembling, hands coming up to tangle themselves in his hair. “He’s gone.” The tears started flooding out in waves, crashing against his cheeks and pouring to the floor. He began shaking so terribly that John was certain he might have a heart attack. 

John stared in shock at his husband, who was lying in a crumbled ball on the floor. Then, Alexander let out the most blood-curdling scream that John had ever heard. It made his blood run cold. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It caused his world to start spinning rapidly. He stood, completely frozen and unable to help as his husband began sobbing so loudly that everyone in the office began forming a crowd around him. 

Alexander didn’t seem to notice them. He was clutching his hair, his eyes so wide and alarmed, and he was shaking. He was in such a state that John only saw him in during particularly large hurricanes. It was worse than that, even. He’d never seen Alexander so distraught, so  _ scared.  _ It shattered his heart into a million pieces and he could feel every shard piercing him from the inside. 

Burr forced his way through the crowd, making his way to Alexander’s side. “Shit, I left for four seconds.” He grumbled, kneeling beside his friend. Were they friends? John could never be quite certain where the two of them stood. He reached to take Alex’s arm, but the man made a sound like a wounded animal and scurried away. The tears never ceased. The sobbing never quieted. The shaking never slowed. He seemed to be having trouble breathing. He couldn’t even make out any real words despite his useless attempt. He was crying far too hard to get out anything meaningful. 

Alexander Hamilton, the man known for his sharp wit and even sharper tongue was rendered incapable of speech because of John. John felt sick, he felt dizzy. He couldn’t breathe. He needed air. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to get through this crowd, so he had no choice but to stay. A part of him knew that he wouldn’t have left Alexander even if he could have.

“What happened?” Burr looked around himself at the crowd, making eye contact with Jefferson. “What did you do?”

“Nothin’!” Jefferson put his hands up, looking just as concerned and frightened as everyone else. “I don’t understand it! I was just teasin’ and then he started goin’ on about how “he” was gone!” He looked between Alexander and Burr. “Who is “he”?”

Burr sighed, looking exhausted. “John Laurens. His husband. He killed himself a few days ago.” The sobbing grew louder, almost deafening. 

Jefferson’s eyes went wide and he went so silent so suddenly. He glanced down, a look of absolute shame on his face. A part of him seemed hurt, another part determined. “I’ll take care of ‘im.” He said resolutely. “You all clear out.” He stood and addressed the crowd. “Give ‘im space, damn it!” He snapped until the crowd dispersed and he made his way to Alexander, scooping him into his arms despite the smaller man’s protests. “Shh. Shh, darlin’. It’s alright. Everythin’ is gonna be alright.” He soothed, carrying Alexander down the hallway and into the men’s bathroom.

John followed on his heels, a deep frown etched across his face. He didn’t trust Jefferson to be alone with his husband. Not one bit. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this! Please comment if you are able! They help me so, so much as a writer and you are the reason I continue coming back to this! Plus, I love interacting with people!


	8. Heart to Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! New chapter! Enjoy and thanks everyone for your wonderful feedback!

Jefferson carried Alexander into the men’s bathroom, walking into the disabled stall and locking the door behind them. John didn’t make it in time to follow through the door, so he was forced to flatten himself against the floor and crawl under. He wrinkled his nose at the smell, thinking about how disgusting he must be getting. Then he remembered that it probably didn’t matter. He doubted that any germs could actually stick to him. He stood up on the other side, brushing himself off. Of course, there was no reason to do so, but it made him feel better. 

Jefferson had sat down on the dirty floor, wincing as his joints cracked. He held Alexander in his lap despite the man’s weak struggling. John felt his heart start to beat faster. What was Jefferson getting at? What was he doing? Was he going to hurt Alex now that he had him in a vulnerable position? He couldn’t let him do that. He had to stop him. He didn’t know how, but he had to. He didn’t like this one bit. 

“Hey. Hey, now, darlin’. Shh. You’re alright, doll.” Jefferson’s voice was soothing. “You’re alright.” He ran his fingers through Alexander’s hair and rubbed his back. “I’ve got ya. I’ve got ya, doll.” He was gently rocking him, holding him tightly in his arms. “I’ve got ya.” 

John eyed him suspiciously. He didn’t trust Jefferson. He never did. The guy was obnoxious at the best of times and downright disturbing at the worst. The guy made John uncomfortable at times with how he flirted or even just how he looked at his secretary. It made John uneasy. The man was bound to make him suspicious when he started behaving kindly to his worst political rival; a man who he  _ despised.  _

They remained on the floor for quite a long time; just how long, John couldn’t be sure, but it was a long time before Alexander stopped crying. Even when he ran out of tears, he continued sobbing dryly. The scene was heart wrenching to watch and it physically hurt to see his husband like this. John took a seat across from the two of them, watching as Alexander cried in the arms of his worst enemy. 

Eventually, Alex’s sobbing became quiet sniffles and he wiped his eyes, taking deep breaths. He scooted away from Jefferson, his back resting against the bathroom wall. There was a tense silence for a moment. 

“I’m sorry.” Alexander’s voice echoed in the tiny space. He refused to look at Jefferson, seemingly out of shame of appearing so weak in front of a man he was in fierce competition with. 

Jefferson shook his head, eyes trained on Alexander. “Don’t apologize for grieving.” His tone was gentle, but Alex visibly stiffened at the words. “You’ve experienced great loss.” 

“No.” His voice was harsh, scolding. “No, I’m fine. I have to get back to work.” He made an attempt to force himself to his feet, but he slid back down the wall. 

Jefferson stared a moment before speaking. “Did you know that I used to play the violin?”

“What?” Alexander sputtered, taken as much by surprise as John was. 

Jefferson leaned back, his gaze fixated on an invisible point on the ceiling. “I used to adore it. It helped me think. It got my wheels turnin’ when I couldn’t think what to write.” He closed his eyes. “My wife loved it. She said it was my greatest talent, that she never would’ve fallen in love with me if I didn’t play.” A small smile slid across his lip. “She was jokin’ of course, but she really did love it. At night, we would spend hours at a time talkin’ politics, drinkin’ wine, dancin’. And I’d play for her.” His eyes fluttered open, but he didn’t look away from the ceiling. “She was a bright woman, my Martha. She had a fire in her heart. She never took any of my bullshit, and I say a lot of bullshit.” He chuckled and even managed to pry a short laugh from Alexander. “She’d fix me with a look and say “Thomas, think about what you just said and try again”.” He imitated a woman’s voice.  

He exhaled shakily. “I haven’t touched a violin since the day that she died.” A stillness settled in the air around them. “I was at her side when she passed. I was holdin’ her hand.” His eyes slipped closed again. “I don’t remember what happened next. I was told that I screamed, that I had to be pried away from her. I fainted right outside her door.” His eyes opened again and he blinked back tears. “I didn’t come out of my room for three weeks. I couldn’t. I had no reason to. The only person I allowed in was my daughter. It felt like a part of me died right along with her.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “Life was meaningless after that. There was nothin’ left in the world. I just wanted my wife. I wanted to see her again. I wanted that more than anythin’ in the whole world.” He glanced at Alexander. “I wanted to join her. I would’ve given anythin’ to see her again.” 

The meaning of his words washed over both John and Alexander. John shivered and even though Alex didn’t look back over, he noticed how his back went up straighter. 

Jefferson continued. “I took the curtain from my bedroom window. I was tyin’ it into a knot.” He inhaled. “And that was when Patsy came in.” He exhaled shakily. “My daughter. She came in, askin’ what I was doin’. That was the moment I knew that I couldn’t go through with it. My daughters needed me. I couldn’t leave them.” He reached and took Alexander’s arm. “You can’t leave them.” 

Alex stiffened. “I’m not going to- I couldn’t do that to them! Not after-”

“I didn’t figure you would leave ‘em like that.” Jefferson shook his head. “But you’re still abandonin’ them.”

“What?” 

“You think throwin’ yourself into your work isn’t leavin’ them?” He questioned. “Have you even spoken to ‘em since your husband died?” When he was met with no answer, he continued. “Go home. Be there for them. They’re the ones who need you.” 

Alexander hesitated before wiping his eyes and nodding. He exhaled and pulled his arm away from Jefferson’s grasp, standing up. He walked towards the door, hesitating before unlocking it. “Thank you.” He said shortly, not looking back as he took his leave. 

John hesitated, looking back at Jefferson, who remained on the floor. The man smiled shakily before bowing his head. For the first time, John felt a pang of pity for the man. He sighed and followed his husband, unable to get Jefferson out of his head. Maybe there was more to him than he thought. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had more details about Martha Jefferson's death as well as other deaths that Jefferson went through. Martha Jefferson/Thomas Jefferson is honestly one of the sweetest historical romances in my opinion and I love them. (Even though Jefferson is historically a garbage man who later groomed and raped Sally Hemmings, who: Fun Fact! Was Martha Jefferson's half-sister.) 
> 
> I might write a fic just about Thomas and Martha one day. 
> 
> Anyway! Please continue reading and commenting! It makes my whole life worthwhile!


	9. Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter today! Because I'm enjoying your responses to it and because I enjoy writing it so much! I have the next several chapters planned, so I might get another one or two out before the day is through!

Alexander cried in his car on the way to Lafayette’s house. He had stopped by the time he walked up the front steps and pushed open the door. He rushed into the living room, causing everyone sitting there to look up in alarm. 

“Alexander, you’re-” He cut Eliza off by wrapping his arms around her, holding her close. He started crying once again, soaking her shirt with tears. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He was openly sobbing at this point. “I’m sorry.”

Eliza’s expression softened and she stroked his hair. “No, shh. Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re here now. I forgive you.”

“He’s g-gone.” He choked out, curling up in his wife’s lap. “He’s gone. He’s gone.” His voice could barely be heard. “I loved him. I loved him. Eliza, Eliza, I-” He was struggling to get any words out. 

Eliza continued shushing him and petting his hair. “I know. I know, Alex. Of course you loved him. I know.” 

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t.” He pulled away to stare into Eliza’s eyes. He looked so small and desperate. “I didn’t mean it. He isn’t a burden. He never could be.” He gripped the front of her shirt. “I was just upset and scared. I didn’t mean it. He’s not just more work. He isn’t. He’s not.” He shook his head repeatedly. “I didn’t mean it. I loved him. I loved him. I promise.” He was having trouble breathing. It was almost as if he was trying to convince Eliza of his sincerity. 

She reached up to cup his face, swiping his tears away with her thumb. “I know that, Alexander.” She said gently. “I know. Of course you loved him. I know.”

“Did he know?” His eyes were wide and so, so scared. “Did he know I loved him? What if he thought I didn’t?” He began hyperventilating. “I didn’t show him. I didn’t tell him enough. I didn’t love him enough.” He buried his face in his wife’s neck. “I didn’t love him enough. He didn’t know. He didn’t know.” He chanted over and over again. “He didn’t know.”

John stared, sinking to the floor. He watched as his husband cried, his body wracked with sobs. “I know.” He whispered. “Alex, I know. I always knew. I knew you loved me.”

“Daddy knew!” Angie spoke up from where she was watching the entire display. “Daddy says he knew.” She fiddled with the ears of the stuffed bunny she was holding. 

Alexander pulled away to look over at his daughter, wiping his eyes. “Angie…” He looked devastated.  

John stood and walked over to his daughter, kneeling beside her. “Go on.” He took her hand in his own. “Tell him that I never doubted his love for me, even if I sometimes thought I did. I always knew in my heart that he loved me.” 

Angie glanced between both of her fathers. “Daddy says he always knew.” She told him, suddenly looking shy. “Daddy says he thought he wasn’t sure, but he was. He always knew.” 

Eliza’s eyes began to fill with tears as she held Alexander closer. John watched and continued encouraging his daughter. “Tell them that I will never stop loving him. Even if I’m not able to be with him. Tell him that I’ll love him forever.” 

“Daddy’ll love you forever.” Angie nodded, growing more confident. “No matter what! Even if you can’t see him!” 

Alexander started crying harder. Eliza stroked his hair and smiled shakily at Angie. “He really is here, isn’t he?” She exhaled and closed her eyes. John froze up and his eyes widened. Did Eliza really believe that he was there? Did she know? “He’ll always be with us.” His heart sank. She just meant it in a religious way. Of course. He didn’t know why he had expected otherwise. “He’ll always watch over us and he’ll always love us.” 

“I’m sorry.” Alexander choked out. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t do enough. I didn’t help enough. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

John blinked back tears of his own and shook his head. “No. No, Alex. It’s not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing.” He insisted. 

“Daddy says it’s not your fault.” Angie walked forward to take her father’s hand. “He says you don’t have to say you’re sorry.” 

Alex shook his head. “I do. I do, sweetie. I let him down. I left him when he needed me. I- and now he’s gone. He’s gone.” He picked her up and held her close. “He’s gone and I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you.” John whispered, moving forward to cup Alex’s cheek in his palm. “I forgive you, Alex.” 

“Daddy says he forgives you.” Angie copied, hugging her father tightly. “He forgives you.” 

Alexander seemed somewhat soothed by that. He shook his head and held Angie closer. “I-” He closed his eyes. “Thank you.” He whispered. “God, thank you.” He opened his eyes and cupped her face.” You are such an angel.” He kissed her head. “You’re so sweet. Thank you.” He rocked her gently. “I’m never gonna leave you, sweetheart. Never ever.” He promised. “Never. I’m gonna be right here for you. Always.” He looked over at his other children. “For all of you.” He reached for them. “Come here. Come here.” 

Alex Jr. ran forward and gladly accepted his father’s embrace. His long, braided hair hitting Angie in the face. “I love you, Papa!” He announced with a grin. “I love you and Mommy and Daddy!” 

“And we all love you too.” Alexander assured. “We all do. All of us.” 

Fanny came forward and joined the hug. “I love you too.” She smiled. “I’m gonna miss Daddy a lot.” She admitted, arms wrapped around Alexander’s torso. “He still loves us, right? Even if he’s not here?”

“Of course.” Alexander assured quickly. “Of course he does. He does. He always will. He’ll never stop loving you. Never ever.” He looked at Philip, who wasn’t even facing them. “Phil. Phil, come here.” He pleaded. 

Philip stood up and left the room, causing Alexander to shed further tears. Eliza shook her head and kissed Alex on the back of the neck. “It’s okay, dear. It’s okay. He just needs time. He needs time.” 

Alexander nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah.” He closed his eyes. “Time.” He took a shaky breath and held his children tighter. 

John watched them and slowly added his own arms around his children, tears flowing freely now. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I’m so sorry for leaving you. All of you.”

“Daddy says he’s sorry.” Angie piped up from against Alexander’s chest. “He says he’s sorry for leaving.” 

Alexander paused, a silence settling over the group. It appeared that he simply wasn’t going to respond for a long moment. “One day, I’ll forgive him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was honestly one of the hardest to write. It was Painful. I'm really happy with it, though, and I think it was needed. I've wanted a good family moment between all of them. James wasn't part of the family bonding because he was down for a nap, but I love this family so much. I can't remember if I've said this before, but when I mention Fanny, I'm talking about Frances Antill, a child who the Hamiltons fostered from the ages of 2-12. In this, I just made her their adopted daughter. Also, in case you were curious about ages
> 
> Philip -9  
> Angie -7  
> Fanny -6  
> Alex Jr. -5  
> James -3  
> Frances Eleanor Laurens -14
> 
> Which are the actual age comparisons. More of the next generation exist here and I know how all of their ages relate to each other because I am a Nerd. 
> 
> Anyway, please continue giving me comments and feedback! They make me so happy!


	10. Pride is Not the Word I'm Looking For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter for today, but boy oh boy is it long. This is probably my favorite chapter so far, but it's Sad, so buckle up.

The next week seemed to pass by so slowly. The Hamilton-Schuyler-Laurens family - or, John supposed they were just the Hamilton-Schuyler family now - moved back into their own house after Lafayette hired a company to clean the mess John had left behind.

Alexander didn’t return to work, he didn’t even attempt to work from home. It was extremely unusual for him. Instead, he spent all of his time with his children. He took them on walks through the park, holding their hands and telling them about the various plants they passed along the way.

Eliza had spent the week tidying the house. She had put away anything sharper than a butter knife to where it couldn’t be reached. She had packed all of John’s things into boxes that she put in the closet to be gone through at a later date. She took down all of the photos of him. It hurt to see himself totally erased, but he understood the reason behind it. He didn’t know what happened to the gun.

Lafayette and Hercules visited almost daily. Hercules seemed to be fairing a bit better. He was able to smile and talk openly. He seemed to be eating more, which John was relieved to see. There were still rings around his eyes, but he was healing.

Lafayette’s progress appeared to be going much slower. He still wasn’t putting much thought into his appearance; though he did start tying his hair up again. He was still unwilling to eat more than a few bites at a time and it was obvious that he wasn’t getting much sleep. He seemed to be on edge a great deal of the time, nervous and jumpy. He didn’t like the idea of anyone going anywhere alone.

It was slowly sinking in for the children that John wasn’t coming back. Philip was still distant and withdrawn, spending most of his time in the room he shared with Angie. Whenever he did make an appearance, he was frustrated and snapped at everyone around him. He had so much anger, John couldn’t blame him. He had every right to be angry. He refused to eat with the family, simply taking his food to his room so he could eat alone. He wouldn’t allow anyone to speak to him or try to reach out to him. He didn’t join his siblings on days out with his father. He was obvious how much this hurt Alexander, but he never pushed.

Fanny seemed quieter, sadder. She kept more to herself, often staring into space rather than interacting with the world around her. She spent a great deal of time writing or doodling in her journal. At other times, she would simply sit in the yard and listen to music. It seemed to calm and comfort her. She tended to follow Alexander around, not wanting to leave his side for too long. She was content to just sit in silence beside him and scribble in her journal, but she wanted to be around him.

Alex Jr. shared in Philip’s anger, becoming more annoyed than frustrated. He asked questions of his parents constantly. He asked where John was, why he was there, why he couldn’t just come back, when would that change, how it happened, and a million other questions in rapid succession. He was curious and confused. He wanted answers more than comfort. Alexander and Eliza couldn’t answer every question, which just made him more angry. It was disheartening to see. He hated not being told what he needed to hear. Each answer led to new questions that his parents attempted to answer, but nothing seemed to satisfy him.

James was still too young to understand. He continuously asked for his daddy and would get upset when his parents told him as they had before, that his daddy couldn’t be there. He would cry and scream sometimes, demanding that his father come and hold him. He missed him. That much was clear. He would have tantrums when John wouldn’t come to him. John just wanted to set him in his lap and talk to him. He wouldn’t get that chance.

Angie was the least bothered, as she didn’t feel as if she had lost anything. Her father was still there, would still talk to her and cuddle her. She noticed the melancholy surrounding her family, but she didn’t understand it. She was more frustrated by the fact that no one else believed that John was there. She was happy to spend time with her family, always smiling as she always did. She was still happy and still very much a child.

Time was supposed to heal all wounds, but the night before John’s funeral, it seemed that any wounds that had been healed were beginning to split open. The children were all in their respective rooms, having been put down for bed. Alexander was pacing in his own bedroom, absolutely fuming. His hands were balled into fists at his sides and his teeth were firmly clenched.

“Alexander, please sit down.” Eliza sighed from where she was laying in bed. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“He can’t come! He can’t!” He snapped, raising his voice. “He can’t do this!”

“Keep your voice down.” Eliza requested kindly, slipping a bookmark between the pages she was reading. “We don’t want to wake the children.” She set her book on the bedside table.

Alexander shook his head, but lowered his voice. “He can’t do this. He’ll ruin everything.”

“There’s nothing we can do, Alexander.” She sat up straighter, grabbing another pillow to prop herself up with. “He’s his father. He has every right to come.”

“He never cared about him!” Alexander argued. “He was never much of a father! I don’t understand why he even wants to come! He never loved him! This is supposed to be to honor John’s memory! All Henry fucking Laurens wants to do is create conflict!”

Eliza sighed and tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “Alex, he’s his father. It’s possible that he just wants to tell his son goodbye. Can you imagine losing a child?” Her tone was gentle, yet strict.

“No. No, he doesn’t care about him. He never cared about him.” He insisted, not one to give up once an idea was in his head. “I don’t want him there. John wouldn’t want him there.”

In all honesty, John didn’t know how he felt about the idea of his father attending his funeral. He hadn’t seen the man in thirteen years, not since he had come out to him and had refused to marry Martha Manning to placate him. John knew that he had become a senator for South Carolina and he’d been firmly advocating for gay conversion therapy. John hadn’t wanted anything to do with him. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of the man taking time away to go to his son’s funeral. It was perplexing. He had made it pretty damn clear that he didn’t consider John family.

“Maybe he wants to make peace.” Eliza suggested, clearly tired of Alexander’s fretting. “Come to bed. There’s nothing we can do.” She patted the space beside her.

Alexander sighed and reluctantly took his place beside her in bed. “I just hate this so much. I don’t want his funeral to turn into some-” He waved his hand flippantly. “Political platform for his father.” He was quiet a moment. “He’s going to say that it’s my fault.” He whispered. “He’s going to say that it’s because he’s gay.”

Eliza sighed and stroked his hair soothingly. “We don’t know what he’s going to say. All we can do is be respectful. We won’t engage even if he does say anything, okay?”

“I’m just supposed to stand there and take it as he insults John’s memory?” He rose his voice.

“Yes, Alex.” She confirmed. “We don’t want there to be a scene, no matter who starts it. We have to think about everyone else there. We have to think about the children. Okay? Can’t you do that for one day? For John?”

Alexander sighed before eventually nodding. “Yeah.” He said quietly. “Yeah, okay. For John.” He agreed, cuddling closer to his wife.

“Thank you.” She kissed him softly and pulled him close. “Goodnight, Alexander.”

“Goodnight, Eliza.”

John sat back and watched as Eliza drifted off, Alexander still alert and staring at the ceiling. It was obvious that he wasn’t ready to let this go, but he didn’t want to tell Eliza. John was worried about the next day, not only because it would be extremely unsettling to witness his own funeral, but because he didn’t want his children anywhere near his father. He didn’t want them to have to experience how bigoted, racist, and homophobic his own family was. He sighed and closed his eyes. He supposed that there was nothing he could do but see what happened.

***

John hadn’t even been aware that everyone he knew owned so much black. It was almost eerie, how dark everyone’s clothing was. Like they had all went out and bought a matching set. He supposed that it made sense for a funeral, but that didn’t put him at ease.

Lafayette was dressed nicer than he had been since John’s death. He was wearing a wonderfully tailored suit that fit him perfectly. His hair was styled in a neat ponytail behind him, seeming to have finally washed it. He was even wearing his usual amount of makeup, though John doubted it would last, judging by how his lip was already quivering. Adrienne stood by his side and held his hand, wearing a black hijab and a modest black dress. The only splash of color between the two of them was Adrienne’s dark, purple lipstick.

They had brought the children with them. Anastasie was holding her younger sister’s hand tightly, staring across the cemetery at the crowd of people around, John himself was surprised to see that so many people showed up. Virginie was rocking on her heels, looking bored. Georges was standing away from the rest of his family, watching the Hamilton-Schuylers.

Hercules was standing with his own sons, but he kept glancing towards the Lafayettes. He was so concerned for his friend and he had grown accustomed to taking care of him. Hercules’ oldest, John Mulligan Jr., was staring at the ground. He was clearly making an attempt to be respectful, but the boy looked bored more than anything. William was also clearly unamused, sitting on the grass at his father’s feet.

There were a few guests that surprised John. Washington was there, along with his wife. John had always greatly admired the man, but he was always closer with Alexander by far. He didn’t know that he cared about him enough to attend his funeral. Burr was another that greatly surprised him. When he’d first saw him pull up with his wife and daughter, John had been taken off guard. The two of them had never been close. Far from it. Their exchanges accounted to little more than playful banter. Alexander had evidently been surprised as well, as he questioned the man about his reasoning for being there. Burr had insisted that he only wished to pay his respects and Alexander seemed to accept that.

John’s gaze traveled to Martha and Frances. Martha looked a mess, tear stains on her cheeks. She was clutching her daughter’s hand tightly in her own. Frances looked so much like John. Her wild curls fell in waves behind her and freckles were splattered across every inch of her skin. He couldn’t place her expression. He couldn’t tell if she was bored, disinterested, sad, or if she felt anything at all. He couldn’t blame her for not mourning him. He had never been a proper father to her.

He sighed and slowly returned to his own family. They were all dressed in black and everyone else kept sending them concerned glances. Alexander seemed bothered by the attention, glaring at anyone who dared to offer him a pitying look. Eliza put a hand on his arm and shook her head, silently pleading with him not to start anything. She handed him James as a means to distract him.

When John’s father arrived, there was an uncomfortable tension cloaking the area. He was dressed in an expensive suit and tie, looking to the world like he was about to appear on tv rather than attend his son’s funeral. He glared distastefully at the people around him, clearly disgusted by the idea of his son acquainting himself with people of so many different races and sexualities. Thankfully, he didn’t comment. In fact, he didn’t say a word through the entire service. Alexander kept sending him glances, but he didn’t initiate anything.

Alexander had written a eulogy that he planned to deliver. He had originally been scheduled to speak first, but he insisted that he had a few last minute edits to make. Instead, Lafayette stepped forward. He was trembling as he stared at the several people watching him expectantly. He swallowed and cleared his throat several times. “John was-” His voice broke and he wiped his eyes, apologizing. “John was one of my best friends.” He began, fighting to keep his voice even. “He was an amazing man. I can not even think of English words to describe him. I will admit, I find it hard to put his brilliance even into French words.” That created a light and forced chuckle to ripple through the crowd.

“He was brave. He never hesitated to defend those who had so much less than he did. He fought for them. From the moment I met him, I knew that he was someone incredible.” He closed his eyes, having to steady himself before continuing. “He was so kind. Even when the world pushed him down, he also rose back up and encouraged others to do the same.” He started trembling even worse. “He- He- He changed my life. I have never met someone so- so fierce and resilient and-” He took a shaky breath.

“I found him.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I found him. I found him and my first thought was- was-” He burst into tears. Hercules took a towards him, but he waved him off. “My first thought was “Oh, God, why”.” He looked up with tear-filled eyes. “Why him? Why someone so good? So-” He covered his mouth and cried harder, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He was struggling to make it through. He said a few words in French to calm himself. “Why did it have to be him?” He closed his eyes again. “He didn’t deserve it. No one deserves that, but especially not John. He had spent so long fighting to get better, fighting his depression. Not for him, but for the people he loved.”

He turned his head to face the Hamilton-Schuyler family. “For his husband. For his children. For his friends.” He turned back to the main crowd. “He fought so hard for us.” His accent thickened. “He fought. He fought and he- he lost.” He choked out. “He lost and- and that doesn’t make him any weaker.” He took several gulps of air. “I haven’t been able to get what I saw out of my head.” He admitted. “Everytime I close my eyes, I see him lying there. I see how much he lost. I think of all he had to live for. Even now, I can see him.” He shook his head repeatedly. “He didn’t deserve this. He never deserved this.”

“If he were here now, he would thank each and every one of us for coming. He loved everyone here. He had so much love to give. So much. So much. He was so spirited and-” He dissolved into tears, shaking his head and sobbing. He allowed Hercules to escort him away, leaning against him for support.

John wasn’t even aware that he had started crying. He quickly wiped his eyes and took shaky breaths as he watched Lafayette. He was touched and wished that he could take the memory of Lafayette finding him away. He had never meant to scar his friend so badly.

John blinked in surprise as Washington stepped up next. He hadn’t even expected Washington to come, much less say anything. The man cleared his throat and inhaled. “I’ll be short.” He started. “As I know that many people here have much to say about John. It’s unsurprising. He was a great man.” He smiled fondly. “John was one of the brightest men that I ever had the pleasure of meeting. He was strong and brave and always had something to say. He knew how things could be improved and he always added his two cents.” He took a breath. “More than that, he was a good person. He was confrontational at times, certainly, but he was good. I still remember when he sent Charles Lee to the hospital just to defend me.” He chuckled to himself.

“John was a good man. A great one. I saw firsthand how he protected his family, and how he adopted anyone in need into what he considered to be his family.” Washington exhaled. “I am so proud to have known him. He was a remarkable influence. I felt so proud every time he made an improvement or succeeded in something he had been struggling with.” He made direct eye contact with John’s father. “I would have been proud to consider him a member of my family.” He stepped back. “Thank you.”

John was in shock, trying desperately to stop crying. He couldn’t believe that Washington of all people cared so much. He wiped his cheeks, breathing heavily. He would have loved to call Washington his father.

Alexander slowly took his place in front of the crowd, holding a sheet of paper tightly in his hand. He refused to make eye contact with anyone. “John was a lot of things to a lot of people.” He took a deep breath. “He was my husband. He was the father of my children. He was my best friend. He meant the world to me.” He blinked through his tears and his hands started shaking. “He was everything and more. When I first met him, he was so loud and his energy filled the room.” He swallowed repeatedly. “His smile was radiating. His ideas were intoxicating. I was infatuated immediately. I had never met anyone who struck me like he did.”

He began to cry. “His ideas were so similar to mine, but he also had so many new ones. So many bright ideas and he knew how to execute them. He had plans and that was what drew me to him. He didn’t keep idle ideas that he never planned to act on. He was a man of action. It was that drive to action that finally took him from me.” He choked out a broken sob and John’s heart shattered. “B-But- But he was so much more than that.” He looked about to faint.

“He was impulsive and reckless and stupid and I loved that. I adored that in him. He was like me. Too impulsive for his own good, too willing to dive into confrontation. Everyone saw that in him, but I saw so much more.” His words were coming out in a rush. “I saw his gentleness. I saw how excited he got when we got him turtles for his birthday. I saw how gentle he behaved around his children. I saw how guilty he felt for not being there for his first child.” He looked over at Frances. “I saw how concentrated he was when he began to draw. I saw how proud he was of his work. I saw when he couldn’t stop crying over how he believed his father hated him.” He looked at John’s father. “I saw how desperately he tried to impress the people he looked up to.” He glanced at Washington.

He inhaled. “I saw my John. I saw the John who needed to be held and be reassured that I would never leave him. I saw the John who read his children to sleep and who kissed their cuts and bruises to make them better. I saw the John who could convince me that everything was going to be alright even during the worst hurricanes. I saw the John who laughed freely with his friends as they talked about how they would change the world. I saw the John who was an angry drunk after four glasses and a clingy drunk as soon as he started on his fifth. I saw the John who regretted not being closer to his siblings or to his daughter or to his father. I saw the John who never backed down from a fight. I saw the John who told people who looked down on him that they could go to hell.” Alexander’s voice swelled with pride and he wiped at his eyes.

“I saw the John who was so, so insecure about himself. He was insecure about if he was enough for the people who loved him. He was insecure about his skills as an artist and as an activist and as a father. He was always so insecure.”

Alex smiled a bit to himself. “But he was also so proud. He was such a proud man. He was proud to be who he was. He was proud to be a gay, Puerto Rican man in a polyamorous relationship. He was proud of his work when it was accomplished. He was proud of each and every one of his children. He was proud of me when I struggled with my eating disorder for several years. He was proud of every step towards improvement that I made. He was proud of me for sleeping when I needed to. He was proud of me when I finished a project or when I included him in my work. He was so proud of me.” He exhaled. “He was proud of himself too. He couldn’t always see it at times, but he was. He was proud of himself for making it as far as he did. He used to tell me that when he was younger, he didn’t think he’d live to see eighteen. Then that number grew to twenty. And then to thirty. John was so proud of himself for making it to each milestone. He was proud of himself for starting therapy. He was proud of himself for paying child support for Frances. He was proud of himself for trying to medications. He was proud of himself for coming so far.”

He closed his eyes. “He didn’t make it to today. He didn’t make it to see Philip graduate high school or to walk Angelica down the aisle. He didn’t make it that far. But you know what? I’m proud of him. I’m still so proud of him.”

“My John was the bravest, kindest, most wonderful man I ever knew. Nothing will ever be the same without him. I loved him. I still love him. I’ll never stop loving him.” He stepped back, wiping hurriedly at his eyes and breathing heavily. Eliza took his hand and he smiled at her, still shaking.

No one seemed to want to follow that. Alexander’s was bound to be the most emotional and it felt right that he should close it out. John got an idea. He walked to Angie and knelt down to whisper in her ear. He told her what to say before pulling away. “Can you do that for me?”

Angie nodded and took a step forward. “I have something to say!” She chirped, all eyes turning to her. She swallowed and folded in on herself, looking shy. Alexander’s face crumpled behind her. “My daddy is a very good man.” She began, already going off the script John had given her. He smiled at her and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, letting her continue with what John had wanted her to say. “My daddy loves everyone here a whole lot. He’s really happy that you all came. He misses all of you.” She dug her shoe into the dirt. “He never thought he meant so much to all of you, but he’s really glad that he did. He’s really sorry for leaving.” She played with one of her curls. “But he really loves you all a lot and, uh, he wants you all to keep, uh, living without him.” She hid shyly behind John’s leg. “And he’ll always love you a lot. No matter what and he’ll always love me too. He says that Mr. Washington is very kind and that he would have been very happy to have you as a daddy.”

Washington’s expression softened and he smiled at the girl. Angie continued. “And he says that Laf is a very good friend and he’s sorry you had to see the bad things.” She didn’t know what she was referring to, but that didn’t matter. “But that he loves you and that you look really good.”

John couldn’t tell if Lafayette started laughing or crying, but he clutched Hercules. “And Herc is also a good friend. He misses you making him pants.” Hercules cracked a smile and pulled Lafayette closer. “And he’s sorry to Frances Eleanor,” She turned to look at her half-step-sister. “He really wishes that he was a daddy to you like he was to me.” Frances seemed surprised and unsure of how to react, so she just looked away.

Angie rocked back on her heels. “And he’s sorry to Papa and to Mommy and to Phil and to Fanny and to Alex and to Jamsie and to the unnamed baby sibling. He wants to be there for you. He is here, but you can’t see him, but he loves you.” She peeked up shyly. “And yeah. He loves you a whole lot.” She told everyone before running to cling to Alexander’s leg. There was a long moment of silence as everyone processed Angie’s words.

Someone started clapping. John looked over to see Burr, who had been brought to tears. Soon, several people joined in. The entire crowd was applauding. John wasn’t sure if that was something considered to be polite at funerals.

Angie was blushing and Alexander picked her up, kissing her cheek and holding her close. He was smiling and crying. He was telling her how proud John would have been of her. And John was proud. He was so proud. In that moment, he knew that everything would be okay. He was so proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this chapter more than I should have. Happy Valentine's Day to those who celebrate! I hope you enjoy your gift of torture and pain.
> 
> Also, as always, please leave comments! You have no idea how happy they make me!


	11. Can You Imagine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, this chapter is rough. I'm not very happy with it, to be honest. Be warned, there is heavy use of homophobic and racist language.

After the funeral service, many of the attendees milled about, making short conversation with the people around them. They shared stories of John through shared laughter and tears. They were growing closer than John had ever seen them. 

Martha was speaking with Eliza, standing beside her. “When is the baby due?” She asked, gesturing to Eliza’s stomach. 

“In two months.” The other woman smiled, a hand settling on her baby bump. She smiled at the thought of meeting her child so soon.

“Have you decided on a name?”

Eliza shook her head. “No, we don’t even know their sex. We like waiting. We’ve had a few ideas, but nothing has been settled.” 

Martha nodded in understanding. “You’re such an incredible mother. I have no idea how you do it. I could never raise so many children.”

“Oh, I don’t do it on my own.” Eliza laughed. “Alexander and John were always right by my side. Neither of them shirked their responsibilities onto me. They both adore the children. They take pride in every moment spent with them.” 

Martha glanced at her own daughter, who was sitting on her own and drawing in her sketchbook. “I’m glad. They deserve a good family.” 

Eliza’s eyes softened and she reached to take Martha’s hand in her own. “You’re a wonderful mother, Martha. Your daughter loves you so much. I can’t imagine raising any child on my own.”

Martha inhaled. “I just wish I didn’t have to do it alone.” She admitted. “I wish John could have played a bigger part in her life. I see so much of him in her. I think that if he had just given her a chance,” She trailed off and shook her head. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now. Frances will never get the chance your children did.”

“I wish things had been different.” Eliza squeezed the other woman’s hand. “I wish that he had been there for Frances too. I think he would have been proud of her. I think that he was proud of her, in his way. He was just scared.”

“I know.” Martha said softly, wiping her eyes. “I know he was. I don’t resent him. I don’t.” She kept her gaze on Frances Eleanor. “I just fear that she does.” 

John couldn’t listen anymore. It hurt too much, filled his heart with guilt. He knew that it was too late to fix his mistakes. He walked away from the women and took a seat next to Frances Laurens, looking over her shoulder at her sketchbook. She was doodling pictures of women, her wild curls tied behind her. Her tongue stuck out slightly from the corner of her mouth in concentration. Anastasie walked over and took a seat on the other side of the girl, trying to catch a glance at her sketchbook. 

Frances held her sketchbook closer to her chest and glared at the other girl. “Do you mind?” She snapped, causing Anastasie to flinch. 

“I just wanted to see.” She said quietly, her French accent think. “Your drawings appear very pretty.” She rested her hands in her lap. 

Frances looked suspicious before slowly relaxing. “Right.” She sighed. “Sorry. I’m just,” She hesitated. “Tense, I guess.”

Anastasie nodded. “He was your father, no?” She asked, gesturing vaguely to the graves around them. 

“No.” Frances said immediately, staring resolutely at the ground. “Well, technically. I guess. Not really.” She groaned in frustration. “It’s complicated.” 

“Do you wish to talk about it?” The French girl offered kindly. 

“Why would I want to talk to you? I don’t even know who you are.” She wrinkled her freckled nose up. 

“Anastasie Louise Pauline Motier de Lafayette.” She introduced herself with a flourish. “Most Americans call me Anna, as it is easier for them to pronounce.” She shrugged. “My father is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert Motier de Lafayette. My mother is Marie Adrienne Françoise de Noailles.” She gestured to where they were standing. “My brother is Georges Washington Louis Gilbert de Lafayette. My sister is Marie Antoinette Virginie Motier de Lafayette.” 

Frances stared in disbelief at her. “Those are certainly interesting names.” She said eventually. 

“Oui.” Anna smirked with pride. “We are a very interesting family.” She looked back at Frances expectantly. “Ah, but you have not shared your name.” 

“Frances. Frances Eleanor Laurens.” She shrugged. “Not nearly as interesting.”

“Nonsense!” Anna waved the girl off. “That is a lovely name! A lovely name for a very lovely girl.” 

Frances flushed darkly, quickly looking away. “Thanks, I guess.” She muttered. “Your name is pretty.” She admitted after a long moment. “Ana- Anastasia?”

“Anastasie.” She corrected. 

“Right. I’ll get it right eventually.” Frances sighed, running her fingers through her hair. 

Anastasie beamed. “I thank you for trying! Many Americans do not.” When met with nothing more than a short nod, she continued. “Anyway, you claimed not to know me. Now you do. Or is my name not enough? Well, I am fourteen years of age, I enjoy reading very much, and I consider myself to be a good cook.” She cocked her head to the side. “And now it is your turn.   


“Oh.” Frances fiddled, drawing rough circles on a blank page anxiously. “Well, I’m also fourteen.” She said eventually. “I like drawing.” She shrugged. “There’s not much more to say, really.”

“I am certain that is not true, but I shall let it pass.” Anna declared. “And so we do indeed know each other now. Now you may speak to me, no?”

Frances chuckled under her breath and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.” She hesitated. “It’s just that my father has never really been part of my life, you know?” She refused to glance up. “I didn’t really know him. I guess I should be sad, but I’m not. I’m just not.” She sighed. “I should be. People say that he loved me, but I don’t think that’s really true. He had his real kids.” She gestured to where the Hamilton-Schuyler family had gathered. “He didn’t really have time for me and he didn’t care about me. I never really cared about him either, though.” She ceased in her drawing. “And that was okay. But now I’m supposed to be mourning him and I feel nothing at all.”

John’s heart sunk. He stood and shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled to his daughter before walking away. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stay here. It hurt too much. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away from the crowd. He just needed to clear his head and get away from his mistakes. He stepped through the graveyard, weaving his way through the headstones. It still felt surreal. He still wondered when he was just going to wake up. This couldn’t last forever, right? He just wanted to return to his family, to the life he had before. How could he have thrown that all away? Was this his punishment? 

He stared up at the sky, taking a breath. “I’m sorry.” He said aloud. “I am. I know I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t faithful enough. I was selfish. I had envy and pride and I had so much sin. I know that and I am deeply sorry.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had prayed. “I would trade anything to take it back. I know I can’t. I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I regret it. I regret hurting them. Let me fix my mistakes. Allow me to create change. I beg of you.” He was met with no answer. He sighed and his feet carried him to his own grave. He sat down in front of it and pressed his palm against the cold stone. “Is this my legacy?” He’d never cared about how he would be remembered. Not like Alexander did. In his mind, once you were gone, you were just gone. What you accomplished when you’re alive is what was important. “I just want a chance.” He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the headstone. “I want another chance. For them.” 

He didn’t know how long he remained there, just kneeling before his own grave on the day of his own funeral. It was calming: The quiet. He couldn’t see his friends fighting back tears or hear his children’s frustration and confusion. He was just with himself. It was a brief period of relief. Of course it couldn’t last. 

Shouting could be heard in the distance and John’s head snapped up. He rose to his feet and went sprinting back to the crowd, blanching at what he found. His father was clutching a handkerchief to his nose, which was pouring blood across the front of his expensive suit. Alexander was shouting, but John couldn’t focus on the words. People were screaming and parents were ushering their children away. Several guests were crying. 

John glanced around, trying to figure out what had happened. He tuned in to Alexander’s shouts, hearing him above the screaming around him. “You fucking bastard! Why are you even fucking here? No one wants you here! Go! Just go, you good-for-nothing piece of shit!”

“I should have known what to expect from a group of fags and niggers!” John stiffened at his father’s words. He felt himself choke on air and he stumbled backwards. It was so similar to what his father had told him before. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. He couldn’t do this now. He had to focus. Focus. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Alexander lunged at the man again, but Hercules managed to grab his arms, forcing him back. “He was your son! Your son! Your fucking  _ grandchildren  _ are here!” He thrashed in Hercules’ arms, fighting to get at him. 

His father scowled. “He  _ was  _ my son!” He announced, sending John for a loop. He’d never heard his father take ownership of him before. “He was my son! I knew him better than any of you! I knew the man he could have been if it wasn’t for you! He could have been successful! He could have been brilliant! He could have been happy! If he had just listened to me-”

“He was all of those things!” Tears were flowing freely down Alexander’s cheeks. “He was successful! He was brilliant! He was fucking  _ happy _ with me!”

“If he was happy, then why did he shoot himself in your house?” He challenged. “Happy men do not kill themselves!” 

Alexander shook his head desperately. “If he had listened to you, he would have just done it sooner! He would have been fucking miserable! He would have hated himself! With me, he had someone who loved him! He had his children!”

“They are  _ not  _ his children!” He snarled. “He only has one child and he threw her away!” He pointed to Frances Eleanor, who stiffened uncomfortably. “He threw away his chance to be a father when he refused to marry her mother! Those children are just a bunch of bastard mutts!” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Alexander strained himself to get closer, trying to escape Hercules’ grasp. “How fucking dare you say that about my fucking children, you racist son of a bitch! He had six wonderful fucking children! Frances isn’t even the only one biologically related to him, you dumbass! You fucking monster! They’re fucking  _ children!”  _

Even Hercules looked ready to punch the man in. He glared. “Watch where you step.” He growled. “I’m about four seconds from letting him go.”  

“Why not attack me yourself?” His father challenged. “Isn’t that what an overgrown nigger is best at?” He spat in his face. John couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He knew that his father behaved racistly at times, but this was an extremity that he had never heard before. The world started spinning. He had to sit down. 

Hercules released Alexander, who flung himself towards John’s father, tackling him around the middle and knocking him to the ground. He straddled him and started punching his face repeatedly. “You racist fucker! How dare you? How dare you? You fucker!”

“Get off me!” He struggled to throw Alexander from him, bleeding in several places. He scrambled to his feet, spitting blood from his mouth. “I will not be humiliated by a group of fucking whore fags!”

Alexander rose to his feet, hands balled into fists at his sides. “This whore fag is the man your son loved! This whore fag is the man who held your son when he cried over how you hated him! This whore fucking fag cleaned up what you did to him! Do you even know how much internalized homophobia he had? How much internalized racism? All his life, you talked about those disgusting fags who needed to be fixed! You talked about those fucking mutts who were raised in mixed-race homes! Your son was fucking mixed, you dumb piece of shit!” His voice broke. “Your son was a gay, mixed-raced father with six brilliant, mixed-raced children he raised with his husband and his husband’s wife! He was fucking amazing! You never fucking deserved him!” 

“They aren’t his children!”

“Shut up!” John’s head spun around to see Philip stepping forward. He had tears streaming down his cheeks. “Shut up! He was my father!” His fists were clenched. “He was my father! He was a better father than you could ever be! Ever!”

Henry Laurens snorted. He didn’t deserve for John to call him his father. “Oh, are you the one biologically related to him, then? So he fucked another man’s wife and still insisted that he was a fag.” 

“He would be my father anyway!” Philip stomped forward. “Because he loved me! That’s what makes him my father! He loved me and took care of me! He took care of all of us! You’re just a bully!”

Angie ran after him. “He’s my daddy too!” She grabbed her brother’s hand. “He’s the best daddy!” 

Fanny ran forward. “He’s my father! I don’t remember my birth mommy or daddy, but he’s my real daddy!”

“Me too!” Alex Jr. joined his siblings. “He’s my daddy!” 

Eliza blinked through her tears, approaching her children. “These are all his children.” She was holding James. “This is his family. You never were. Never.” 

John was in tears at this point. He had never felt so grateful for his family. He didn’t deserve them. He could never deserve them. 

Washington approached Henry Laurens. “I think it’s time for you to leave.” He said firmly, grabbing his arm and dragging him away despite his protests. 

There was a moment of tension before the dam broke. Everyone bursts into tears. They clutched each other and comforted one another. It was a moment of support and misery. It was a moment of collective unity. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clear this up for everyone 
> 
> Philip Hamilton -9 Biologically the child of John Laurens and Elizabeth Schuyler 
> 
> Angelica Hamilton -7 Biologically the child of Alexander Hamilton and Elizabeth Schuyler 
> 
> Frances Antill -6 Biological parents are unknown, but is legally the adopted child of Alexander Hamilton and Elizabeth Schuyler 
> 
> Alexander Hamilton Jr. -5 Biologically the child of Alexander Hamilton and Elizabeth Schuyler.
> 
> James Hamilton -3 Biologically the child of Alexander Hamilton and Elizabeth Schuyler
> 
> Alexander and Eliza have legal custody of all of those children. 
> 
> Frances Laurens -14 Biologically the child of John Laurens and Martha Manning. Martha has full custody, but John paid child support for her. 
> 
> Both John and Martha are gay. They slept together due to internalized homophobia and wanting to "fix" each other. Henry Laurens tried to pressure them into getting married after Martha revealed that she was pregnant, but they both refused. 
> 
> Georges Washington de Lafayette -12 Biologically the child of Lafayette and Adrienne 
> 
> Anastasie de Lafayette -14 Biologically the child of Lafayette and Adrienne 
> 
> Virginie de Lafayette -9 Biologically the child of Lafayette and Adrienne 
> 
> I changed their names a bit to make "de Lafayette" their last name because French names are complicated and I don't fully understand. Adrienne and Lafayette are in an open relationship. Adrienne is Muslim and the children were raised at least partially Muslim. Please correct me if I make any mistakes as it concerns this.
> 
> John W Mulligan -17 Biologically the child of Hercules Mulligan and unknown woman 
> 
> William Cooke Mulligan -11 Biologically the child of Hercules Mulligan and different unknown woman
> 
> Hercules got two women pregnant at different times as he got custody 
> 
> I hope that clears things up. Other next-gen people will eventually show up. 
> 
> Anyway, please, please give feedback! I know this chapter isn't great, but I will work on improving!


	12. Take a Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys deserve a happy chapter.

Alexander returned to work after three weeks. Things had settled down at least somewhat. They were starting to move on, things were returning to way they were. The children were sent back to school. Lafayette started to dress nicer and had returned to their usual sense of style. Hercules went back to making clothing. Angelica had flown in from London to be with the family, but she spent most of the time helping Eliza with the children. She had left after two weeks. 

A news story surfaced about Henry Laurens being attacked at his son’s funeral. It was hot news for awhile, certain people using this as an excuse to continue hating on queer people as well as people of color. Alexander had been furious, but it started to die down after a month. 

Since the funeral, John’s family had settled into a new routine. Eliza still packed the children’s lunches, but she drove them to school instead of John. Alexander still left the house for work before anyone else was awake. Alexander picked the children up for school now. John and Alexander’s Thursday date nights had; of course, disappeared, as did Alexander and Eliza’s date nights on Mondays. John was no longer there to watch the children for them. Washington would pick up Angie for her dance lessons rather than John dropping her off at his house. Alexander had taken over driving Alex Jr. to his karate lessons. Philip had to quit soccer. Alexander had to stop working overtime. 

They took the children to church each Sunday rather than every other Sunday. They had declared Friday a day to visit a friend or have a friend visit them. That had been Angelica’s idea. She thought it would be good for the children to continue being socialized and for Eliza and Alexander to stay in close contact with others who had been affected by John’s death. Martha and Frances visited a lot. Fanny seemed to be obsessed with the girl who shared her name, finding her to be fascinating and pretty much the coolest person ever. Angie also admired her older sister. Alex Jr. seemed disinterested in her, but Philip appeared not to hate her, at least. Lafayette and his family also visited often. Philip was rather close with Georges while Virginie got along well with Angie. Anastasie spent most of her time watching the adults. 

John had found a routine for himself in a way. He’d chosen on which days to stay at home to watch Eliza and James, on which days to follow Alexander to work, when to check on his friends, and when to accompany his children to school. 

At Alexander’s work, Jefferson had ceased completely in going out of his way to give Alexander a hard time. In fact, he was extremely civil. He took some of his work load from him and behaved only politely. On Alex’s first day back, he had assured him that he would be there if his coworker needed to talk, an offer which Alexander had not yet accepted. Madison; on the other hand, had not changed one bit. He was still easily irritated and controlling. He didn’t seem to care for Alexander’s loss in any way. Burr was stoic, but not unkind. He mostly ignored Alexander besides greetings and farewells. Washington was noticeably going easy on his favorite employee, but no one dared to confront him about it. Alexander worked slower, didn’t force as much strain on himself. John was relieved for that. 

Lafayette had started therapy upon his wife’s suggestion. John felt guilty for attending his sessions, but his curiosity got the better of him. It was there that John realized how truly damaged his friend was by finding his body. He spoke of the nightmares that came each night, how he had developed a paranoia around it happening again. He admitted that he was afraid of anyone being alone for too long. He didn’t allow Adrienne to close the bathroom door anymore. During one session, John couldn’t help but to cry as Lafayette described the sheer panic and terror that had stricken him when Virginie had accidentally left the door closed right before school one morning. He told his therapist how he immediately assumed the worst, how he hadn’t been able to breathe or think, how he had been frozen to the spot. He explained how he had been inconsolable for hours afterward and how he’d had to get his wife to call the school so they would put his children on the phone. Just to convince him that his children were alive. 

Hercules was still working on starting his own business, for now just taking commissions. He received more by the day and the idea of his own place opening up seemed more promising by the hour. Peggy Schuyler was his favorite employee and they would spend hours talking, laughing, and working beside one another. The two of them worked extremely well together, almost as if they always knew what the other was thinking. Not everything was perfect, of course. Hercules would have days where he found that he couldn’t work at all, when it was too much for him. Peggy would often take his work load off of his hands and assure him that it was alright and that they didn’t mind working a little bit harder to keep Herc happy. During these days, Hercules would usually spend time with Laf or with Alexander, just needing something to keep himself occupied. 

The children all fared differently during the school hours. John was lucky that they all attended the same school, so when he decided to watch them, he could visit all of them in the same day. He regretted that Frances Eleanor had gone on to middle school, or he would have visited her on those days as well. Sometimes he did. She was the type to doodle on all of her notes, usually appearing very bored. She was too brilliant for the classes and she was smarter than the teachers, of that John was certain. She couldn’t be kept entertained by any of it. She was a wonderful artist, however. John was taken aback by how beautiful her style was; how unique. She waved off any compliments of her art, insisting that there were people who were better. John didn’t care about them. Frances would get Bs, As, and a couple of high Cs. She was brilliant, truly brilliant. John was almost surprised by the sheer amount of pride he felt in her. 

Philip was in a similar position. He was easily bored and frustrated with the slow pace of classes. Instead of sitting back and drawing; however, he would do whatever it took to entertain himself. Sometimes he would be peaceful and just write, but a majority of the time he would poke other classmates and speak loudly with them, disturbing the rest of the class. He didn’t seem to understand that not everyone could learn at the same speed as him. He would play with his friends at recess, where he was clearly extremely well-liked. John was surprised to learn that Burr’s daughter, Theodosia, was in Philip’s class and that the two of them were actually good friends. He didn’t know he’d never learned that while he was alive. 

John had decided to avoid visiting Angie’s class for the most part. She became too distracted when he was there. She would stop focusing on her work and instead turn all her attention to him. She was a bright girl, but she rarely paid attention in class. She’d rather talk to people or color or do something else more entertaining. She was not very easily entertained and would  serve as just as much of a distraction as Philip. Her teacher was growing concerned over her frequent conversations with her deceased father. John couldn’t blame the woman for her skepticism, he wouldn’t have believed it either. She had made several attempts to explain the situation to Angie’s remaining parents, but Alexander would insist that his daughter was fine and that it was just her way of coping, that she would move past it when she was ready. Eliza seemed uncertain. 

Fanny was extremely gifted in music, always being given the solos. She clearly enjoyed her talent immensely, swelling with joy every time she sang. She also had a fascination with instruments. At home, she would beg her parents to allow her to learn to play drums or guitar or even piano. She lived and breathed music. Alexander and Eliza insisted that there wasn’t the time for that, but they didn’t see the look in her eye whenever she was able to experience music in any medium. If John were there, he would have insisted that they get her lessons. He could see how happy they would make her. She would excel. John just wished that she showed them just how much it meant to her. 

Alex Jr. did rather poorly in his studies compared to the others. He was just disinterested in it all and would rather do anything else. He had the tendency to pull on girls’ hair and draw on his desk. John wholeheartedly disapproved. What was worse was that Alex’s teacher didn’t seem to care in the least. He did nothing to stop his behavior and more often than not would chide the female student’s for not being nicer to the boy. The thought made John absolutely furious. What kind of thoughts were they putting into his son’s head? The idea that it was okay to treat women however he wanted with no negative repercussions? John had rarely been so angry. They couldn’t teach his son to behave this way. They couldn’t. Each time he visited Alex’s classroom, he would just work himself up. He couldn’t believe the school allowed this.

John was spending one of his days with James and Eliza. He watched as Eliza cleaned and entertained her son, doing her best to make him happy. James had stopped asking for John and he couldn’t decide if he was relieved or hurt. Would James forget him one day? Had he forgotten him already? The thought made John’s heart clench. He was sitting in the rocking chair in James’ room, watching the boy sleep, when he heard Eliza from the other room. 

“Oh, shit.” He ran out to see her clutching her stomach. “Now, really?” She sounded exasperated. “I just got James to bed, can’t you wait? You’re not due until next week!” She groaned. “Okay, okay. You’re the boss.” John’s eyes widened as he realized the situation: Eliza was going to have the baby. His heart sped up with excitement. This was his child! His child was about to be welcomed into the world! He couldn’t believe it. It was early, but hopefully that wasn’t too bad. They would be okay. Right? They had to be. 

Eliza grabbed the phone and the first number she dialed was Alexander’s. When she got no response, she called again. She had to call four more times before he actually picked up.

“Eliza, I’m at work, what-”

“The baby’s coming.” She explained in a breath. 

There was a long pause. “Now?”

“Yes, now!”

“They’re not due yet!”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Eliza sighed. “I’m gonna go to the hospital, you can meet me there.”

“You’re not driving yourself!”

“No, I’m not driving myself.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m calling Herc and Laf. One of them has to watch James anyway. I’ll see you in a bit.” She hung up and called Hercules, filling him in on the situation. He assured her that he and Lafayette would be over as soon as possible. She thanked him and settled on the couch to wait. 

Hercules and Lafayette showed up in no time, both of them almost in a panic. “Baby?” Lafayette stared at her. “What are we waiting for? We must go!” 

“Someone has to watch James.” Eliza pointed out calmly. “One of you will stay here and the other can take me.”

John glanced at Lafayette, noticing how he stiffened at the idea of one of them staying behind. His eyes widened and he looked at Hercules, who quickly stepped in. “No, we’ll all go. We can entertain James in the waiting room.” He insisted.

Eliza frowned, but nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

The ride to the hospital was a long one, Eliza’s contractions starting about half an hour in. John hated how she groaned. She was rushed inside and was given a room where doctors were pouring over her. John stood by her side the whole time. The only birth he was allowed to be in the room during was Philip’s. He was almost excited to see this one. Alexander arrived quickly, holding Eliza’s hand through it all. One would think that after five children, he would know not to panic, but he was still as anxious as ever. It was endearing. Three hours of labor later, Eliza was cradling her newest addition to the family in her arms. 

“Hi, there.” She smiled at the new baby boy, making adorable baby noises. “Hi. Do you know who I am? I’m your mommy.” She told him, making silly faces. Alexander was by her side, tears in his eyes. “That’s your papa. Did you know that? He loves you a whole lot. We both do.” She kissed her newest son’s head. “God, Alex, look at him.” She beamed. 

“I know.” Alex wiped his eyes, unable to stop grinning. “He’s beautiful. He’s so beautiful.” He sat on the edge of his wife’s bed, reaching over to cup the back of the baby’s head. “God, he’s gorgeous. He’s perfect.” He kissed Eliza’s head, blinking away his tears. 

John was crying too, unable to stop smiling. That was his son. His son! He was perfect. He was healthy and alive and adorable. He was wonderful. John couldn’t be prouder. He smiled at his son, making faces and noises at him to see how he’d react. It was something he had done for all of his children. The baby didn’t react, unable to notice John at all. His heart sunk and he started crying for entirely new reasons. He wanted to be there. He wanted to hold his son. He wanted to be able to make him smile. He took a shaky breath, still smiling. As much as he hated not being able to be there for him, he was glad that his son existed. He was so glad that there was life, even after John’s death. Eliza and Alexander deserved this. They deserved this piece of joy. They deserved the new beginning this child gave to them. 

“What’s his name?” A doctor asked, looking over at the smiling couple. 

“We haven’t decided.” Alexander didn’t even look away, unable to tear his gaze away from his baby boy for even a moment. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s here. God, look at him.” 

Eliza hesitated for a moment before looking up at her husband. “I had an idea for a name.” She said gently, studying his face.

“And what’s that?” He still didn’t turn away. 

Eliza swallowed and glanced back down at her son. “John.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, just a quiet murmur of a suggestion. “John. John Hamilton.” 

Alexander finally looked to Eliza, surprise on his face. He looked between her and his son. “John.” He repeated, his voice breaking. “John.” He leaned down to kiss the baby on the forehead. “Yeah. Yeah, I like that. John. My son.” He burst into tears. “God, I wish he was here. I wish he could see.”

“I know.” Eliza kissed his cheek. “He is. He does. He does see. He’s here.” 

John stared down at his son, his eyes flooded with tears. He couldn’t believe it. “Hi, John.” He whispered. “I’m your father. I’m always gonna be looking out for you. No matter what. I'm here." He kissed his head. "I love you. I'm always going to love you. My son."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are very much appreciated!


	13. Holly Jolly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally another chapter. I took a break over the weekend, as I was put on new medication and it's put a lot of stuff out of whack, but I am back now. This chapter is kinda all over the place and I can't tell if I like it. However, it was needed to get to the next part.

The newest addition to the Hamilton-Schuyler-Laurens family was named John Church Laurens. John was shocked when Eliza and Alexander decided to give him his deceased father’s last name. He’d never heard of that happening before and didn’t even know it was legal to do so. He would be lying if he claimed not to be extremely touched. 

He loved his son from the moment he laid eyes upon him. This seemed to be the case with the entirety of the family. They were happy for the first time since John’s death. They were truly happy. John was glad. He really was. He just wished he could have been there for it. 

The next several months were dedicated to the new baby, as they took him home and got everything situated for him. Everything settled down. John’s death was almost forgotten as everyone moved on. It wasn’t perfect; there were bumps in the road, but it simply was hardly brought up anymore. 

The world moved on. Birthdays were celebrated, people grew older, and the earth continued to spin. John was simply a bystander, unable to take part in anything, but able to observe. This was just the way things were now for everyone. Everyone except for Angie. 

Eliza’s concern for her daughter’s mental health grew. John could see how she would look out of the corner of her eye whenever Angie would talk seemingly to herself. She was worried. John couldn’t blame her, he wasn’t sure what he would think if he saw Angie insisting that she was conversing with the dead. He tried to tell her not to speak to him in front of other people, but she didn’t listen. He was her father and she saw no point in having to wait to talk with him. 

Eliza began to pressure her husband into allowing her to take Angie to a doctor; an idea which he easily brushed off. 

“Lots of children have imaginary friends, Eliza.” He insisted, not paying her any mind. “It’s just something that children do. She has an overactive imagination. That’s all.” 

“Most children’s imaginary friends aren’t their dead fathers.” She stated flatly. “This is more than just imagination, Alexander. She genuinely believes that he’s talking to her. This isn’t healthy.” 

Alexander shook his head. “No, it’s fine. She’s fine. She’ll grow out of it.” 

Eliza sighed, giving up on talking any sense into her husband. She waited only a few more weeks before taking the initiative to bring Angie to the doctor herself. She was incredibly worried, holding her daughter's hand through all of the questions. 

John tried to tell his daughter to lie, to say that she was just pretending that her father was with her. Angie refused, telling the doctor all about how he was in the room with her at that very moment. John could see the pity in the doctor’s eyes. 

He didn’t know what this would mean for her. He didn’t want anyone to think that his daughter was making things up or that she was sick. It wasn’t her fault that nobody else could see him. He didn’t want anyone to treat her differently. She didn’t deserve that. 

The doctor pulled Eliza aside to discuss possible diagnoses with her. Some form of psychosis, possibly schizophrenia. It made John’s heart sink. He closed his eyes and exhaled, rubbing his face in his hands. This was just one huge mess that he couldn’t clean up. The doctor discussed when to schedule another appointment as well as treatment options. Angie herself was completely oblivious. 

Upon arriving home, Eliza called Angelica in tears. She was distressed, having no idea what to do or how to feel. She felt like Alexander wouldn’t offer any support or help and she considered herself to be stranded on her own. Whatever Angelica said seemed to calm her at least somewhat, which relieved John. She called Peggy next, who immediately came over. 

The siblings enjoyed each other’s company for some time, sharing stories and laughing together. They were happy. When Alexander returned home, Eliza explained to him about Angie. He argued against it, but his wife managed to get through to him. He resigned to treating his daughter for mental illness. 

Within another month, Angie was given medications and therapy. She hated it, but her parents truly believed that it would help. John couldn’t fault them for that. They were just trying to help her. John wanted what was best for her too. He didn’t know how to help. 

Angelica came to visit for Christmas. It was hard to believe how quickly time flew by. The first Christmas without John was a bittersweet affair, as Alexander teared up when looking at John’s stocking or his ornaments. There was a hole where John should have been, but they filled it the best they could. Alexander attempted to work through the holidays, but his family refused to allow it. Little Angie made John a Christmas present, which he thought was sweat, but drove Alexander to tears. 

It was a large celebration with friends and families. All their friends and their friends’ families were invited to spend the day with them. More than just friends attended. John was surprised by the sheer number of guests who attended. 

The first knock at the door occurred at four thirty pm, when the party was scheduled to be at five. 

“I’ll get it!” Eliza called, wiping her hands off on her apron. Herself, Peggy, and Angelica had spent the entire day in the kitchen, preparing the meals for dinner. Alexander hadn’t been allowed to touch any of it, as he had been known to burn toast whenever he was offered the chance. Eliza opened the door. “Oh!” She was taken by surprise. 

“Mrs. Hamilton.” Burr stood outside the door, looking very awkward indeed. He was accompanied by a woman and a young girl. “I hope you do not mind us stopping by. We received an invitation.” He lowered his gaze and appeared to be prepared to turn and run. 

Eliza smiled politely and stepped aside. “Do come in, Mr. Burr.” She offered kindly. “I’m afraid you are a bit early and our family is always late. We aren’t entirely prepared for guests yet.” 

“My apologies.” Burr expressed, stepping inside. “You have a lovely home.” He turned to her once she closed the door. 

“Thank you.” Eliza smiled, turning to the woman at his side. “You must be his wife.” She shook her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Mrs. Burr returned the handshake. “You as well, Mrs. Hamilton.” She tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “I assume you have met our daughter?” She gestured to the young girl who was hiding behind her father’s leg. 

“I have not.” Eliza admitted, smiling at the child. “Hello.” She waved, but the curl buried her face in Burr’s pant leg. 

Burr chuckled. “I’m afraid little Theo is a bit shy at times.” He apologized. “I’m sure she’ll become more talkative when she sees that your boy is here.”

“Pardon?” Eliza tilted her head. 

“Theo talks about Philip a great deal.” Mrs. Burr explained. “The two of them are close friends.” 

Eliza was taken by surprise. “Oh, I was unaware.” She shook it off. “Please, make yourselves at home.” 

Lafayette and his family arrived next, perfectly punctual as usual. Eliza opened the door and was met with a kiss on the cheek. Lafayette was dressed in his flamboyant style yet again. “It is lovely to see you, my dear.” He took her hands in his own. 

Eliza laughed. “It’s good to see you too. Come in, come in.” She ushered the family inside. Adrienne started a conversation with Peggy easily, the two of them flirting without shame. John smiled as he watched the two of them, noticing their lingering touches and how closely they stood to one another. He caught Lafayette gazing at the two of them adoringly. 

Martha Manning and Frances Eleanor arrived shortly after. Eliza welcomed them in and John found himself taken aback as Frances and Anastasie shared a kiss. He learned through Martha’s explanation to Eliza that the girls had begun dating some time ago. John wasn’t certain how he felt about this development. 

Mr. and Mrs. Washington arrived on their heels, bringing a bottle of wine with them. They were pulled into the festivities along with everyone else. 

There was another knock at the door just as the table was being set. “That must be Hercules, late as always.” Lafayette laughed, sauntering towards the door. “I shall get it.” He pulled the door open. “Oh!”

Jefferson stood at the door, blushing darkly. “Hello, Lafayette.” He greeted shortly. Two girls were accompanying him. “Might I come in?”

“Oh, of course!” Lafayette beamed and welcomed the Jeffersons inside. “More guests!” He announced. “These are Thomas’ daughters.” He gestured to the girls. “Patsy and Polly.” 

There was a moment of hesitation, a tense awkwardness before Eliza smiled. “Welcome.” The families made more room around the table to accommodate them. 

There was feasting and laughing as they dug into Christmas dinner. Rivals shared stories and smiles, friends rejoiced in each other’s company. It was beautiful. Hercules arrived while dinner was being cleaned up, always so late. They all shared in dessert and everyone pitched in during clean-up.

After the food was consumed, everyone stayed for chatting and merriment. Georges was speaking happily with Polly Jefferson. Frances Eleanor and Anastasie couldn’t seem to be pulled away from one another. The younger children were put to bed, but the rest stayed up well into the night. A great deal of alcohol was consumed and the house was full of a friendly air. 

During a quiet moment, Jefferson looked up from where he was splayed across the couch. “Where have Adrienne and Peggy gone?” He quested. After a glance around, it was revealed that they were, indeed missing. 

“They are  _ not  _ fucking somewhere in my house!” Alexander groaned, shaking his head. “Laf, find your wife!” 

Lafayette laughed. “Non. It is about time, non?” He rose his glass of wine from where he was sitting comfortably in Hercules’ lap. “The two of them are cute together.” He announced dreamily. “Besides, I do not want to be the one to interrupt.” 

Burr seemed entirely confused. “You really have no problem with your wife sleeping with other women?” He seemed scandalized. 

“Non.” Lafayette smirked. “Oh, do not look so shocked, mon ami. I allow her to do as she pleases, and she gives me the same freedom. Love is not a finite resource, after all.” 

Mrs. Burr laughed. “There are many ways to love, Aaron.” She said kindly. 

Burr shifted uncomfortably and made a disgruntled noise. “I suppose.” He said without remarking any further. 

“Oh, mistletoe!” Lafayette jumped up and cupped Hercules’ face in his hands, messily pressing their lips together. Hercules was shocked at first before kissing back, a hand wrapped around Lafayette’s waist. 

Alexander howled with laughter. “We didn’t hang up any mistletoe!” He laughed until tears sprung into his eyes. “That was such a cheap excuse!” 

“Papa!” Anastasie wrinkled up her nose and looked away. “You’re embarrassing me!”

Lafayette pulled away for just long enough to shoot a reply to his daughter in French before returning his attention to Hercules. 

It was a wonderful night. It was a beautiful night. John spent the entire time laughing alongside his friends. It was a good night. By the time it finally wound down, everyone was happy and decided to stare over for the night. Everyone except for the Burrs and Washingtons, who called for rides home. John watched them all with such love filling his heart. He loved them all so much. They deserved this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please leave comments! They are what keep me coming back to this!
> 
> Also, I kinda wanna start writing a laflams fic. Thoughts?


	14. Summer in the City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for this whatsoever. It's a short one, but it's something. Enjoy.

Everything was okay. For a time. Everything moved on so quickly and before John realized it, a year had passed. His children were all older, the wounds he had left behind were faded, and everything was okay. The worst of it was over.

Eliza’s father had asked to see her and the children, so they were prepared to go and visit. Alexander had denied the offer of joining them, insisting that he needed to work and that he wasn’t prepared to leave yet. Eliza had accepted this and allowed Alex to stay behind. John had hesitated before decided to stay with his husband. He was worried for him. He seemed to be working harder and harder lately. 

It was the third night after Eliza and the children had left. Alexander was working himself to the bone. He threw his glasses onto the desk, sighing and rubbing his eyes. “Jesus.” He muttered to himself. “I need a break.” He yawned and rose to his feet, stretching his sore muscles. 

John nodded. “You do.” He agreed, despite Alexander’s inability to hear him. “Rest. Take a break.” He rubbed his husband’s back. “Sleep.”

Alexander shook his head and unknowingly moved away from John. “I need to go out.” He decided. “Need to get my mind off things.” He muttered to himself, retreating into the bedroom to get changed. He returned dressed in clothes that John hadn’t seen him wear in some time. It was nice, but showed quite a bit of skin. It was sexy and it was supposed to be sexy. It was made to be sexy. What was Alex doing? 

They left the house and went down to one of Alexander’s favorite clubs. John eyed the place with suspicion. Alexander hadn’t gone out since Philip was born. John couldn't see the reason in him doing so now. He watched as his husband ordered a drink, scanning the club with interest. John felt discomfort and unease settle in his stomach. He didn’t like it. 

Alexander smirked as someone caught his eye. He danced over to a rather large man, grinding against him. The man grinned and rested his large hands on Alex’s hips, pulling him against him. The two of them danced, if heavy grinding and dirty thrusting could be called dancing. John was forced to watch as the man attached his lips to Alexander’s throat. He expected Alex to throw the man off, to tell him that he was married and uninterested, but instead he just moaned and threw his head back. John’s discomfort quickly evolved into red hot anger. He hissed, wanting to tear the man off of his husband. He couldn’t believe that Alexander was doing nothing to discourage him. 

As the song continued, Alexander spun around to press his lips to the man’s. They began sloppily making out across the dancefloor. John was seething, hands balling into fists. If he could have punched the man, he would have. He wished he could have. He was grinding his teeth together in pure fury. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

When the song ended, Alexander broke himself off from the man and went in search of a new plaything. “What are you doing?” John screamed at him, not caring that he couldn’t hear. “What about Eliza? What about the children? You can’t do this!”

The rest of the night continued with Alexander having his fun, making out with whoever he deemed attractive enough. Until he began dancing with an extremely attractive young woman. He took her hips, grinding against her as he kissed her neck, delighting in the breathy moans he pulled from her. John was fuming as he watched the two of them together. 

Alexander eventually pulled away. “Can I buy you a drink?” He glanced at the woman with a grin. She nodded and allowed him to drag her from the floor and to the bar. He ordered her a drink and leaned against the counter, eyeing her up and down. “And your name is?”

“Maria Reynolds.” She replied simply, her perfect lipstick standing out against the tone of her skin. She was panting slightly, her breasts rising and falling noticeably as her skin shone with sweat. “Yourself?”

“Alexander Hamilton.” He introduced with a slight bow that had the corner of her lips quirking up. “It’s a pleasure.”

Maria laughed. “Oh, a pleasure, is it?” She rose an eyebrow. “I’m sure you know a lot about that, hm?”

“Oh, I am very skilled in the art of pleasure.” Alexander took a step closer, crowding her against the bar. John would have laughed at the stupid line if he had been in the mood for laughing. 

“You have a talented mouth, at least.” She remarked, gaze flickering to his lips. “I’d hate to see it wasted on talking.”

Alexander chuckled, voice low and deep. John couldn’t help the shiver that went up his spine. He knew that voice. It was dangerous, threatening, and unbelievably sexy. “Oh, I can do a lot with my mouth.” He purred, dipping his head so he was whispering into her ear. “And with my tongue.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and John caught her shudder. “You say you don’t want me talking, but I don’t think you’ve heard just how far talking can get me.” He hiked up her dress to rest a hand on her thigh. “Oh, I can  _ talk,  _ darling. I can weave a story about all those fantasies floating around in that head of yours. I can tell you exactly what I’d like to be doing to you right here against this bar.”

“Why talk about it, when you can do it?” Maria’s voice came out breather, but still held confidence as she pulled away to look into his eyes. “Or are you all words?”

He chuckled and John caught his hand traveling further upwards, saw Maria’s sharp intake of breath that hid a moan. He was boiling in his skin as he watched, but he couldn’t turn away. Not now. He wished that he had never seen, but now he couldn’t stop looking. “I am far more than words.” Alexander whispered and John could tell how he was twisting his fingers from how Maria’s eyes rolling back. 

“Oh, God.” She sighed, her hips rocking slightly. “You should know that I am a married woman.” She breathed and John let out a sigh of relief. Surely that would make Alexander realize what he was doing. “My husband would not approve.” She gasped as Alex did  _ something  _ under her dress. “He’s a good for nothing, abusive pile of shit, but he is my husband. Thought you should know.” She added as an afterthought. 

Alexander studied her, a smirk blooming across his lips. “My wife is away.” He attached his lips to her neck and drew a pleading whine from her. “We’ll have to continue at my place, then.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so that happened. Whoops. Please leave feedback and comments! They are much appreciated and I always try to respond to everyone! I'm also thinking about starting a laflams fic, but I haven't decided if I should do so. I'd love to hear people's opinions on that! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you will continue to enjoy doing so!


	15. Couldn't Say No

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, this is so rushed and poorly written. I just wanted to get something out there because I didn't update yesterday. I'm gonna try to update at least every other day, as I don't know if I can keep up with everyday for this. I sincerely apologize. Also! I posted a new Laflams fic entitled "Cotton" and you should check it out and leave feedback if you wanna!

John couldn’t stand being in the same room as Alexander. He was pissed beyond belief. His husband was having sex with some woman he picked up at a bar. He had  _ spoken to his wife  _ on the phone while this woman was in their bed! What kind of sick fuck did that? John hadn’t thought it possible from Alexander. That was something for rich, slimy, white businessmen with no respect for women and who didn’t care about his children. None of those words could possibly describe Alex. So why was this happening? How could it happen? 

If it was only that one time brought on by loneliness and stress and the approaching anniversary of John’s death, maybe,  _ maybe  _ John could have forgiven Alexander. The problem was that it wasn’t just that one time. The problem was that the next night, Alexander called her and invited her back into his bed. The problem was that Alexander did this again the next night and every night for the next week. John was unbelievably infuriated with the man he had once called his husband. John wasn’t certain he felt comfortable even referring to him as such anymore. 

The woman reiterated the fact that she was married each time she returned to Alexander’s bed. She reminded him that they were both married. So the excuse could not be made that Alexander simply wasn’t thinking about his family. No, he was thinking of them, he just didn’t  _ care.  _ That hurt John to his core. At first, he was angry at the woman just as much as he was at Alexander. He was infuriated, needing to lash out and attach blame to everyone involved. She was a married woman who knew that the man she was sleeping with was also married. What kind of  _ whore  _ would continue doing what she was doing with that knowledge? 

That blame didn’t last long; however. It faded when he saw her bruises and heard her speak of the abuse her husband put her through. John couldn’t retain his anger with her when she spoke of her young daughter and how she feared what her husband would do to her if she tried to leave him. It was obvious that she was a damaged woman seeking comfort in the first person who showed her any amount of respect. John pitied her. 

Alexander had no such excuse. This information about Maria simply made John more frustrated with him. He was taking advantage of her. He was taking advantage of her need for comfort, for a  _ friend.  _ John couldn’t understand why he was doing it. Would this have happened even if John were alive? Would his husband still be falling into bed with an abused woman each night? Had he done this sort of thing before? John wished he knew. He didn’t know if the truth would make him feel better or worse. 

Maria enjoyed Alexander’s company. She enjoyed having someone who was there for her, who would hold her. She craved it, needed it. It soon became clear that she was falling in love with him. That broke John’s heart because he knew that Alexander wouldn’t reciprocate. He didn’t actually care about her; he was just using her in such a disgusting way. It made John sick to witness. 

Alexander hummed, rolling onto his side to watch Maria, propping his head up on his palm. “My wife is returning tomorrow.” He informed her. “This is probably going to have to stop, or at least be put on pause for a little while.” He played absentmindedly with her wild curls. “My house won’t be available with her and the children about.” 

Maria hummed. “I suppose that makes sense.” She murmured, but she couldn’t hide her disappointment. “Perhaps we could still see each other?” She turned back to him with hope in her eyes. She wasn’t ready to let go of him yet. 

Alexander shrugged. “Maybe.” He said distractedly, clearly not actually caring. “I’ll let you know eventually.” John knew that he had no intention of ever calling her. 

“Alright.” She agreed with a smile, settling back on the bed. She was happy there, comfortable. 

The day after Eliza returned home, Alexander received a phone call. He had just gotten home from work and was typing up a storm on his laptop. He glanced over to see Maria’s caller ID flashing on the screen. He checked to ensure that Eliza wasn’t in the room before picking up. “Maria, I told you-”

“So, you’re the man my wife has been fucking.” An unfamiliar voice floated through the phone. “Time to pay up, bitch.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, continue to leave comments! They will ensure that I come back! I apologize again for not updating as often as I used to and for the horrible quality of this chapter.


	16. We Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very happy with this chapter, but oh well

John hadn’t actually expected Alexander to pay the man blackmailing him. Apparently, he had too much faith in his husband. Instead of bringing Maria into his own house, he started going to the Reynolds’ place to sleep with her with her husband’s approval. It was disgusting. Awful. John couldn’t believe it. He should tell Eliza, let her know, but he didn’t want to pull Angie into this. She was a child, she shouldn’t be forced to get tangled up in her father’s mistakes. 

That being said, John didn’t want to just do nothing. He couldn’t do nothing. He debated with himself for a week, watching Alexander lie about extra work and come up with excuse after excuse nearly every night. He couldn’t just let him do this to Eliza. It wasn’t fair to her. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone. 

He approached Angie while she was playing with her dolls. “Hey, angel?” He knelt beside her, smiling as she looked up. 

“Hi, Daddy!” She waved, grabbing her doll’s plush hand so that she could wave too. The doll was old, one of the pink bows that were holding her twin braids in place having come entirely undone. 

John smiled, sitting down on the floor beside his daughter. “Hey, princess.” He waved to the doll. “I need you to tell your mother something. Can you do that for me?” He requested, a pit of guilt already forming in his stomach. He shouldn’t be using Angie for this. 

“Yeah!” Angie nodded quickly, always eager to help. “What is it?”

John considered his next words very carefully. He wanted to be able to get the idea across to Eliza without Angie being aware of what was going on. He also didn’t want it to appear that Angie knew a suspicious amount of information. John had come to the realization that everyone believing that Angie was mentally ill was far better than the alternative of them knowing she could literally speak to dead people. If they knew that, there was no telling what they would do to her. He couldn't risk her for anything. 

“I need you to tell Mommy that Papa has been with a strange lady.” He began slowly. He sighed, not knowing how to say more without Angie being able to figure out what was happening. He decided to take the easy way through this and hope for the best. “Just ask her who the Reynolds are. Ask her why Papa is so secretive about them.”

Angie nodded. “What does secretive mean?” 

John sighed. “Ask her why Papa keeps them a secret.” He amended, hoping that Eliza wouldn’t ask too many questions about how Angie knew about this. “Can you do that for me?”

“Of course!” Angie puffed out her chest proudly and stood up. She marched towards Eliza’s seat in the living room with a single-minded determination. She poked her mother’s leg, causing her to look down at her from where she was holding little John Church.

“Yes, dear?” She smiled tiredly, rocking her baby gently. 

“Who are the Reynolds?” Angie questioned dutifully, climbing onto the couch to sit beside her mother. “Why does Papa keep them secretive?” 

Eliza’s brows furrowed together. “What are you talking about, sweetheart?” She adjusted John Church in her arms. “I don’t know who the Reynolds are, sweetie.”

“Papa is with a lady.” Angie shrugged, doing her best to distribute John’s information. “Secretive Reynoldses.” 

Eliza frowned. “A woman?” She studied her daughter’s face. “With a woman how?” She asked carefully, suspicion on her face. 

Angie shrugged. “With a strange lady.” She glanced at John for further instruction. 

“Hm.” Eliza focused on John Church. “I’ll ask him about that when he gets home.” She decided. “Don’t you worry about it.” 

Angie nodded and returned to her room to play. John exhaled shakily, hoping that this would go well. He couldn’t focus until Alexander returned home, looking satisfied. John scowled, knowing exactly what he had been up to in the hour between when his work hours ended and arriving back at his house. 

“Alexander.” Eliza met him in the living room, kissing him briefly. 

“Good evening, dear.” Alex hummed, smiling at his wife as if he hadn’t just been fucking another woman. “How was your day?”

“It was quite alright.” She hesitated before approaching the subject. “Who are the Reynolds, Alexander?”

His reaction was immediate; he stiffened, his eyes went wide, and he clenched his teeth. “Huh?” He glanced away from her quickly. “Oh, I don’t know. Don’t know any Reynolds.” He lied through his teeth, not even convincingly. 

Eliza saw through him immediately. “Is that so?” She crossed her arms. “So you haven’t been seeing a woman with that name?”

Alexander gulped almost comically. He slowly turned to face his wife. “Eliza, I-” He cut himself off, sweating. “Eliza, I’m sorry.”

Eliza’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. Gentle inquisitiveness became anger and betrayal. “An affair?” She accused. “You had an  _ affair?”  _

“Eliza, I’m sorry!” He reached for her, but she stepped back. 

“Sorry?” She scoffed. “Oh, I don’t think you’re sorry at all.” She sneered. “Who is she? How long has this been going on?”

“When you were visiting your father.” Alex confessed quickly. “I met her at a club. Her name is Maria. I was lonely and she was there and-”

“And you thought you’d just help yourself, is that?” She snapped. “You tripped and fell into her bed? Or did you bring her into ours?” 

Alexander quickly shook his head. “It isn’t like that! The first time was just a spur of the moment-”

“The  _ first  _ time?” Her eyes seemed aflame. “Oh, so it’s still continuing? Is that where you go when you say you’re working late? When I have to pick up the children?”

He swallowed and nodded. “I-”

“No.” She said coldly. “You don’t get to speak. You don’t get to say a word.” She turned away from him. “You can sleep in your office tonight. Do not speak to me.” She retreated into their room, locking the door behind her. 

Alexander stood alone in the living room, staring at the spot where Eliza had disappeared. He slowly sat down, tears in his eyes. John hated himself for feeling pity. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please leave comments! They mean the world to me!


	17. Mr. James Reynolds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay. I think my hope of having a consistent update schedule is gone. This is a short chapter, but I'll try to post another today.

When Alexander returned to work, he looked exhausted. He dragged his feet as he entered the office, having been forced to sleep on the couch for the last few nights. Eliza was refusing to speak with him. John thought he deserved it. It served him right for lying to her like he had. Angie still seemed oblivious to what was going on, which John was grateful for. He didn’t want to sacrifice her naivety for Alexander’s punishment. 

Alex stepped into the building and his eyes went wide. The exact last person he wanted to see was standing beside the front desk. James Reynolds, shorter than John had imagined, but every bit as menacing. His trench coat was neatly tailored and matched the hat that sat atop his well-groomed head. A smirk rested on his lips as he waited patiently for Alexander’s arrival. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Alexander stormed towards Reynolds, grabbing his arm and hissing in his ear. “What happened to never meeting in public?”

Reynolds appeared completely unbothered by Alexander’s apparent anger. “You haven’t made your payments.” He remarked slipping his arm out of Alexander’s grasp. He didn’t bother to keep his voice down, drawing attention from the coworkers around them. 

“Yeah, well, I also haven’t been fucking your wife.” Alex kept his voice barely above a whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear. He dragged Reynolds towards his own desk. “And keep your damn voice down.” He warned.

Reynolds chuckled. “I noticed that you haven’t been visiting.” He sat atop Alexander’s desk, flipping through his papers idly. “Our little whore has noticed too. She misses you, mopes about the house all day. It’s pathetic, really.” 

John wanted to punch him. His wife was a wonderful woman who did everything in an attempt to find happiness for herself and her daughter. If he had the ability to punch him, he would have. 

“That’s not my problem.” Alexander hissed. “I haven’t had anything to pay you for.”

“Oh, you think you’re just paying for permission to fuck her?” Reynolds asked. “Oh, no. That’s just why you pay extra. You pay for my silence. You don’t keep paying me, I’m telling your wife.” He cracked the knuckles in his fingers. “I expect your check to be delivered to my account immediately.” Alexander laughed in his face. “Jokes on you. She already knows. I don’t have to pay you for shit.” He smirked. “My money is my money.”

Reynolds seemed taken aback, blinking repeatedly. “She knows?” He echoed, scowling. That clearly wasn’t what he expected. 

“Yup.” Alexander grinned. “She knows. You don’t have shit on me. I don’t have to give you shit.” He leaned into Reynolds’ face. “So get out. I never have to deal with you again.”

Reynolds glared, standing up. “We’ll see, Hamilton.” He said threateningly. “She may know, but I wonder how many others do.” He looked around the office threateningly. “Good day.” He exited the office, leaving Alexander behind him. 

“What was that about?” Burr passed Reynolds on his way out, looking at Alexander curiously. “Is everything alright? Who’s he?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Alexander said quickly, defensively. “He’s no one. Not my problem.” He walked around to the other side of his desk, taking his seat.

“It seems that Hamilton is embezzling.” Madison appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, a devilish smirk on his face. “I didn’t catch all of it, but I heard enough.” He approached Alexander, placing his hands against his desk. “He’s got some deal with that man. He’s paying him off.”

“What?” Burr’s eyes widened in disbelief, glancing between Madison and Alexander. “I find that difficult to believe.”

Alexander snorted. “Because it isn’t true, obviously.” He glared at Madison. “He just wants to spread a bunch of rumors about me to make himself look good.” 

“You explain it, then.” Madison challenged. “Who was he and what was he doing here?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” Alexander snapped, leaning back in his chair. “You have no evidence and it’s none of your business.”

Madison narrowed his eyes. “So if I ask Washington to look into what account your checks are being wired to, we won’t find anything suspicious?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “We won’t find any missing money? Nothing unaccounted for?” 

Alexander stiffened and quickly glanced away, face heating up as it did when he was backed into a corner. John shook his head. “Alex, don’t say anything stupid.” He muttered. “That isn’t evidence. They have nothing on you. It’s not against any rules to cash your check into someone else’s account. It’s your money.” 

“If I tell you, you can’t tell a soul.” Alexander said slowly, making John swear under his breath. How had he ever fallen in love with such a complete and utter  _ idiot?  _

“Alright.” Madison straightened his back. “What’s the truth, Hamilton?”

“He was blackmailing me.” Alexander blurted. “I was paying him to sleep with his wife. It started when my wife and children were away. I enjoyed fucking her until her husband found out. He made me pay him to sleep with her so he wouldn’t tell Eliza. She found out anyway, though, so I don’t need to pay him anymore.” He explained hurriedly. 

Burr stared. “You cheated on your wife?” 

“Yes.”

“But why?” The man looked almost hurt by the idea of Alexander cheating on his wife. “She’s a wonderful woman.”

Alexander shrugged. “You have the truth. You can go away now.” He said harshly. “And you can’t tell anyone.” 

Madison rolled his eyes. “Sure, Hamilton. Sure.” He said unconvincingly before walking off. 

“Burr!” Alex looked panicked. “You can’t tell anyone. Ever.”

Burr just shook his head and left without a word, returning to his work. John sighed and glared at his husband. “You’re such an idiot.” He muttered. “A dumbass. You didn’t need to tell anyone.”

Alexander sighed, tugging at his own hair. “Shit.” He mumbled. “ _ Shit.”  _ He hit his head against the back of his chair. He glanced up, pulling up his Twitter account on his computer, hesitating a moment. “Can’t exploit me if I exploit myself.” He muttered to himself, beginning to type rapidly. 

John’s eyes widened as he realized what his husband was doing. He couldn’t believe that someone could really be this stupid and selfish. He couldn't believe that he could love someone this stupid and selfish. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please leave comments! I promise that I'll always come back to this if people continue to enjoy it! Do you guys like shorter chapters or longer chapters, out of curiosity? I want to make sure I continue doing what makes you guys happy! I updated "Cotton" today already and I'll try to get more chapters out. I might start working on "Tomorrow There's Still Us" again, if people want. That's my Hamilton reincarnation fic. Let me know how I'm doing, guys!


	18. Have You Read This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is late, but I tried to make it at least good

Eliza was infuriated. John had never seen her so angry. As soon as Alexander had posted about the affair, complete with pictures and emails, the media had erupted with accusations and stories about how George Washington’s most prized employee was a raging adulterer. There were questions of sexual assault and extortion. Some were wondering if legal action would be taken. John couldn’t believe the shitshow that was taking place around him. How on Earth could Alexander be that stupid?

Alexander was kicked out of his house as soon as he returned home from work and John didn’t blame Eliza for her decision one bit. Alexander needed to learn that his actions had consequences, no matter what that took.

John watched his husband’s social media accounts blow up, constant notifications pouring in from everywhere. Most people vastly misunderstood what had happened. So many believed it to be an act of sexual assault. That wasn’t fair. Alexander was an idiot and he had hurt his family, but he hadn’t hurt anyone physically. Maria had consented. It wasn’t fair for anyone to accuse Alexander of sexually assaulting anyone.

He was fired. Even John hadn’t been expecting that. Alexander loved his job more than he loved anything in the world. So when he showed up a few days after posting about the affair to find Washington at his desk, he blew up at him.

“No! You can’t fire me! You can’t do that! I’ve been working for you for years! Years! You don’t get to just throw me in the trash like this! You don’t get to do that!”

Washington sighed deeply. “Son, this isn’t something I wanted, but you have backed me into a corner. I can’t be seen supporting someone who-”

“Who what?” Alex screamed. “Who was honest? Who told the world the truth? How dare I actually come forward and be honest about something!” He was fuming, pure rage radiating off of him. “I can’t believe this!”

“There are rumors that you assaulted her, son. I can’t support that. Not to mention, you corresponded with Reynolds on work time using your work email.” He pointed out gently, but stern. It was clear that this wasn’t what he wanted. He put a hand on his shoulder. “Son, you have to-”

“I’m not your son!” Alexander yanked himself away from the older man. “I’m not even your friend! You’ve proven that quite clearly today!” He started shoving his things into a box. “Leave me alone. Don’t talk to me. You just fucking used me.” He grabbed his box and started out, running smack into Burr, sending his things flying.

Burr stumbled back, looking around at the clutter in surprise and confusion. “Alexander? Where are you-” He trailed off, realizing what was going on. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry.” He straightened his tie. “It was honor to work with you.” He held out his hand for Alexander to shake, but he smacked it away.

“I don’t need your pity!” He hissed, shoving him hard in the chest. “I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone here!” He was on the verge of a meltdown. He stormed past him without even picking up his things. He made his way to Madison’s desk. “I hope you’re happy!” He declared. “I hope you’re so proud of what you’ve done!”

Madison looked up, a bored expression on his features. “I did nothing, Hamilton.” He leaned back and took off his glasses, twirling them in the air. “I think you’ll find that this is all your doing.”

“What’s his doin’?” Jefferson stepped into the area, looking confused. “What’d I miss?”

Alexander shook his head and just fled to the door, tears stinging at his eyes as John pursued him. This was all too much for him. John wanted him to face the consequences for his actions, but he never wanted him to lose his job! Alex needed this job, he adored it! This just wasn’t fair. He couldn’t believe that Washington would actually do such a thing.

John sighed, following his husband’s brisk pace. “Alex.” He spoke to him. “Alex, go home. Talk to Eliza.” He pleaded. “Tell her what happened. Say you’re sorry. She’ll forgive you. I know she will.” He insisted, not caring that his husband couldn’t hear him. Maybe he could subconsciously change his mind in some way. John wasn’t even aware of where Alex was planning on going.

He followed Alexander all the way to Hercules’ house, watched him knock on the door and stand outside, tapping his foot impatiently. He barely waited a few seconds before knocking again, louder this time. He repeated this pattern until the door eventually opened.

“Hello.” John W. answered the door, standing up straight and dressed nicely. He frowned when he saw that it was Alexander at the door. “You’re not Charles.”

“Excellent observation, where is your father?”

“Napping.”

“Well, wake him up.” Agitation was present in Alexander’s tone and John sighed. He shouldn’t be snapping at a teenager.

“Yeah, okay. John W. shut the door, only for it to open again several minutes later to reveal Hercules in the doorway.

“Alexander?” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have work?”

“No.” He said flatly. “We’re getting drunk. Very drunk. As drunk as we can get without dying. Maybe drunker.”

Hercules blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I got fired.” He stated in place of an explanation.

Hercules froze. “Oh. Shit, man. I’m so sorry.”

Alexander shook his head. “No. No, it doesn’t matter. We’re getting drunk. You, me, and Laf. Come on.” He didn’t wait for an answer before returning to his car, getting in and waiting for Hercules to follow him in. When he did so, he took off towards Lafayette’s place.

He approached the door and knocked repeatedly, only for Frances Eleanor to open the door. “What are you doing here?” She asked in surprise.

“I’m here to see my friend. What are you doing here?”

“Getting my girlfriend for a date?” She crossed her arms. John flushed as he watched them. She was only a teenager and she was more sure of her sexuality than John was as a grown adult. He didn’t know why that made him uneasy. A part of him wondered if he was to blame for his daughter becoming a lesbian. He knew that was an unreasonable thought, but he couldn’t help questioning.

Alexander sighed. “Right, right.” He muttered off-handedly. “Anyway, can you get Lafayette?” He requested impatiently.

“Please.” Hercules added from over his shoulder.

Frances shrugged and returned inside of the house. “Laf!” She called, causing the man to come to the door.

“Oh!” He seemed surprised to see his friends at the door. “Alexandre, I have heard the news.” He said softly, reaching to wrap the shorter man in a hug.

Alex stepped back and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.” He announced harshly. “It doesn’t matter at all. What matters is that the three of us are going out and getting wasted.”

Lafayette was taken aback. “We are?”

“We are.” Alexander confirmed shortly, grabbing his friend’s hand. “Let’s go.” He practically dragged the Frenchman to his car before heading to a nearby bar. He pulled into the parking lot and practically sped into the building, marching up to the bar and ordering. He started drinking without even waiting for his friends to catch up.

Hercules and Lafayette shared a look before following. “Mon ami.” Lafayette slowly took the seat beside Alexander. “I have read what has happened.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” Alex muttered.

“I think we should.” Hercules pressed. “Why would you cheat on Eliza?”

“More than that, why would you post about it?” Lafayette questioned, confusion written across his features.

“I said that I don’t want to talk about it.” Alexander snapped, glaring at the both of them. “If you can’t shut up, I’ll drink by myself.”

Hercules put his hands up in surrender. “Okay.” He said gently. “Okay. We’ll drop it.”

John sighed, not wanting to watch any of this further. He decided to exit the bar, heading back towards home. He allowed himself to wander the streets of New York, feeling more relaxed than he had in some time. He watched the other people, the people who he didn’t know and who would never know him. It was so perplexing, almost maddening, that there were so many lives that existed outside of his own. It was an almost terrifying thought.

He arrived at the front door of his home after a long walk to get there. He realized quickly that he had no way to get inside, as no one was there to open the door. He sighed and sat on the step, waiting for Alexander to return home or for anyone to open the door.

He had been waiting for some time when a familiar face approached the house. Maria Reynolds was holding the hand of a young girl with matching, bushy hair. He assumed that it must be her daughter. She knocked on the door and waited for Eliza to open it.

Eliza’s confusion turned to contempt. “May I help you?” She asked rudely.

“I need somewhere to stay. I have nowhere else to turn. Please.” Maria seemed close to tears. “Even if you won’t let me stay, please just let my daughter. She’s innocent.” She begged, her mascara running down her face.

There was a moment’s hesitation.

“Come in.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please leave comments!
> 
> I wish I could draw because I genuinely want to draw some scenes from this fic as well as some ships that don't exist anywhere else XD
> 
> Do people want longer chapters with slower updates or shorter chapters with quicker updates?
> 
> Should I start working on Tomorrow There's Still Us again?


	19. Say Yes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really, really short chapter, but it's supposed to be. It's a sweet one.

Maria ended up staying with the Hamilton-Schuyler-Laurens family for a period of about a week. She got along with everyone surprisingly well. Her and Eliza shared the common thread of anger at Alexander for spreading the news of the affair so publicly. Her daughter also got along with the other children. Susan Reynolds was a sweet child, if troubled. John could see the signs that she had been abused, how she would curl in on herself if anyone rose their voice and how she would apologize profusely for any mistake she made. John recognized them because it was exactly how he responded as a child.

Apparently, after news of the affair went public, James Reynolds had been furious. He had beaten Maria and Susan, blaming his wife for what had happened. Maria hadn’t been able to take it anymore, unwilling to watch her daughter be hurt anymore. She had taken Susan and she had ran. Unfortunately, she had no friends or family to speak of, so she had nowhere to go. Reaching out to Alexander’s family had been an act of desperation, which happened to work out well for her.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t house her for long. They couldn’t afford to. Eliza was a stay-at-home mother and Alexander was currently unemployed. The two of them had six children to support, not counting the child support they paid for Frances Eleanor. They really couldn’t afford to house a grown woman and another child.

Alexander was staying with the Lafayettes, still not welcome in his own home. The press had been berating him, the accusations only growing larger and more severe. John felt bad for him, he really did. Alexander was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a rapist. He didn’t deserve those accusations.

Maria was attempting to find work so she could pay for her and her daughter’s own food; at least. She was hoping to perhaps pay Eliza rent as well. Eliza wouldn’t dream of throwing her out, but it was clear that housing and feeding them was becoming a struggle. Maria’s attempts at finding a job were fruitless, as many business were well-aware of who she was. Some thought her a whore, others a coward. In reality, she was a desperate mother struggling to support her child. It was heartbreaking to see.

Susan loved the Hamilton-Schuyler-Laurens children. She adored them. She got along especially well with Angie and Fanny. She would play pretend with Angie, even going as far as to pretend that she could see John too. It was obvious that this was just make believe, but it warmed his heart nonetheless. She grew happier with each passing day, more childish innocence being brought forth in a safe environment. John was grateful towards Eliza for helping her.

A knock at the door had Maria answering, dressed in comfortable clothes and an apron from baking. “Hello?”

“Oh!” Martha Manning stood outside the door, seemingly surprised by Maria’s presence. “Oh, I wasn’t aware that they had company. I apologize.” She flashed her a nervous smile.

“No, no. It’s alright.” Maria assured quickly. “I’m hardly company.” She brushed her curls back. “I’m more of a temporary roommate. Sorry, I didn’t know that they were expecting anyone.”

Martha shook her head. “It’s alright.” She said hurriedly, laughing a bit. “Sorry, that was hardly a proper introduction.” She held out her hand. “My name is Martha Manning. This is my daughter, Frances.” She gestured to her daughter.

“Maria Reynolds.” She accepted the hand offered. “My daughter is somewhere inside.” She waved her hand in the vague direction of the house. “Please, come in.” She stepped aside to allow the woman to enter.

Martha nodded and stepped inside, Frances Eleanor following her. “Thank you very much.” She said, looking around. “Are the Hamiltons home?”

“Eliza is out shopping, I’m afraid.” Maria wiped her hands on her apron. “So, it’s just me.”

“Where’s Alexander?” Martha frowned, Frances going off to find the other kids.

Maria’s expression soured. “He’s not exactly staying here at the moment.” She said shortly. “I can give you the address of where he’s living for the moment if you’d like?”

“Oh, that’s unnecessary.” Martha waved her off. “We just had plans to all meet up and have the children bond. We do that occasionally. They must have forgotten with everything going on.”

Maria nodded. “Yes, they must have.” She agreed, taking a seat and looking down She sighed deeply and shook her head. “This is all my fault.” She muttered.

Martha looked surprised. “Oh, no.” She looked at her and took her hand in her own. “Absolutely not.”

“You wouldn’t know.”

“Know that you’re the woman Alex has been sleeping with?” She rose an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m aware. That isn’t your fault. Not entirely, anyway.”

“Not entirely.” Maria agreed. “But partially.”

Martha nodded. “Yes.” She sat down across from her. “It’s partially your fault, but that doesn’t mean you should accept full blame.” She said matter-of-factly. “You should only accept the blame that is yours. He’s the one who decided to forget about his wife and children. Your husband is the one who blackmailed him. Alexander published it. None of those things are reasons to blame yourself.”

Maria shrugged. “No matter whose fault it is, my daughter is struggling to be fed and we are imposing on a family who doesn’t have enough for themselves.” She sighed and shook her head, voice heavy with emotion. “I wasn’t a good enough mother.”

“Oh, stop that.” Martha reached forward to cup Maria’s cheek in her palm. Maria flinched slightly before looking up and leaning into the touch. “You are a wonderful mother. Your concern for your daughter proves this.” She smiled at her. “Hey, if they can’t afford to take you in, why don’t you live with me and Frances?” She offered. “We can support you until you can support yourself.”

Maria looked absolutely shocked. “Oh, I could never ask-”

“It’s a good thing you’re not asking, then.” Martha smiled. “I’m offering.”

Maria stared, mouth agape. She looked close to tears. “Thank you.” She whispered. “Thank you.” She stood and threw her arms around Martha tightly. “Thank you.” She broke down, sobbing into her shoulder. “You are too good for this world. Too good.”

Martha blushed, rubbing Maria’s back. “You deserve it. Everyone deserves a little kindness.”

Just like that, John’s faith in humanity and in the world, was restored. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm planning on doing something a bit different for chapter twenty, considering that I have never made it to chapter twenty in a fic or story before. I'm thinking we'll take a break from the main story and just have a lighthearted chapter about the background ships?
> 
> OR I could have a NON-CANON chapter where John comes back to life and is reunited with his family.
> 
> It's up to you guys!
> 
> I also just published my first actual smut fic entitled Devil's in the Details and it's probably so baaaad,but it exists. 
> 
> Please continue to comment!! It really makes my day!


	20. A Heart Full of Love Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *asks people to vote between two options* 
> 
> Me: *does the one that the fewest people voted for anyway *
> 
> Oops? I'm really sorry, but I loved this idea. I'll do the other idea eventually, I promise!

**LAFAYETTE AND ADRIENNE DE LAFAYETTE**

****

Lafayette hummed to himself as he held his wife’s hand in his own, a bottle of pink nail polish sitting on the bathroom tile beside him. “I do not understand why you do not trust me to paint your nails in the bedroom.” He pouted a bit, carefully pulling the brush over her perfectly straight nails. “Do you fear that I will spill it?”

“Yes.” Adrienne confirmed with a fond smile. “I will not allow you to stain our sheets.” She watched him carefully. “If you spill it across the bathroom tile, it will not be hard to clean. We have carpet in other parts of the house.”

“Carpet that would remain clean!” Laf insisted, waving his hand dramatically. “It would only be difficult to clean if I spilled, which I have no intention of doing.” 

She chuckled. “Intention rarely matters.” She pointed out smoothly. “Careful. I do not want any streaks.” She warned, keeping her hand still and steady. 

“I have painted enough nails to know what I am doing.” He insisted, but returned his attention to the task at hand. “I will not spill.” He mumbled under his breath, finishing with his wife’s right hand. “There. Not a streak to be found.” He declared proudly, gesturing to the perfectly painted nails with flamboyance. 

She brought her hand up, studying the nails closely. “Well done.” She nodded. “You did not ruin them.” A teasing smirk rested across her lips. “You still have another chance to do so.” She offered her other hand to him, which he quickly took. 

“You have no faith in me!” He whined, dipping the brush back into the polish. “None at all. Why marry someone who you have no faith in?” He was being over-dramatic; as usual, no seriousness behind his words. 

Adrienne shrugged, smiling fondly at her husband. “Who else will paint my nails if I was not married?” She asked playfully. 

“Anyone else.” Lafayette’s gaze was trained on his wife’s fingers. “You have friends, do you not? You could have them paint your lovely nails.” He swiped the polish across her pinky. “There. They are perfect, non?” He closed the bottle of nail polish and smiled at his wife. “You shall never doubt me again.” 

“Hm.” She studied them closely. “They are adequate.” She decided, enjoying getting under Lafayette’s skin. “They’ll do.”

He huffed. “You are impossible!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. “Why do I love you? Why?”

“Because I’m amazing.” Adrienne said simply.

Laf pouted, but his eyes held such warmth and adoration for his wife. “Yes. Yes, I suppose you are.” He admitted, leaning forward to kiss her. 

She returned the kiss with a sweet eagerness, reaching up to cup his cheek in her palm. She was careful not to touch anything with the backs of her nails, not wanting to ruin them. “I love you.” She murmured against his lips.    


“I love you as well.” He smiled fondly, gazing into her eyes. “When your nails dry, it is my turn.” 

She laughed. “Of course. I will make yours look lovely.” She assured as if there was any doubt. Adrienne was the only person Lafayette knew who was better at makeup than Lafayette himself. There was a reason she made a career out of it. 

Once her nails were dry, she started on her husband’s, carefully pulling the brush over Lafayette’s nails to create crisp lines of dazzling blue. She smiled to herself, not allowing a single smudge. 

“I admit that you are rather talented.” Lafayette informed, enjoying just watching his wife work. She was a master at her art, as would be expected from a professional. She was entirely focused on her task, each stroke painted onto his nail like paint on a canvas. It was breathtaking to observe. 

“Of course I am.” She replied simply, hand coming down far too quickly to attempt to dip the brush back into the polish. The side of her hand knocked into the bottle, causing it to tip over and sending it rolling across the floor, its contents spilling onto the title. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened to form a slight O shape as she sat frozen in place. The blue polish pooled onto the floor and spread across, forming an almost laughable picture of a vast lake resting atop the bathroom tile. 

Lafayette blinked repeatedly, unable to respond quickly. He hesitated a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound bouncing off of the bathroom walls. “I suppose it was not I who needed to fear spilling, non?” He teased, a grin across his face. 

Adrienne flushed. “Oh, shut up!” 

“Make me, mon amour.” 

She dipped her finger into the spilled remains of the nail polish before pressing it against the tip of his nose, leaving a blue dot there. She smirked as he went cross-eyed in an attempt to see what she had done. 

“Oh, you little,” He swiped his own finger through the mess and dragged it across his wife’s forehead, causing her to laugh. She returned the attack by leaving blue stains across his cheeks and he pulled her close to attach his lips to hers. 

She smiled against his lips, eyes fluttered closed. “Je t'aime.” She whispered, looping her arms around his neck. 

“Je t'aime.” He echoed, resting his forehead against hers. How truly lucky he was.

 

**LAFAYETTE AND HERCULES MULLIGAN**

 

****

“I’m really not sure about this.”

“I told you that if you truly do not want to, you do not have to, but it would make me truly happy and I think you will enjoy it.” 

Hercules sighed, chewing on his lip in thought. He wasn’t exactly the type who did the whole “makeover” thing. It wasn’t his style. So, when Lafayette had suggested that he “doll him up”, he was understandably a little hesitant. It wasn’t something he’d done before and he didn’t know what to expect. 

Lafayette reached up to cup Hercules’ face, making him face him. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you!” He said quickly, pulling his boyfriend into a tight hug. “Of course I do. This whole thing just seems,” He hesitated, trying to find the right word. “Daunting.” 

“There is nothing to be afraid of, mon cher.” Lafayette assured. “But if you truly do not want to, we do not have to. The choice is yours.” 

Hercules exhaled slowly, mulling it over. He searched Laf’s eyes. “You really wanna do this?” When he was met with a nod, he sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.”

Lafayette’s reaction was immediate, lighting up and pressing a brief kiss to his lips. “You will not regret this!” He assured, standing up in a hurry. He dashed from the bedroom to gather his supplies, returning with lotion, shaving cream, a razor, makeup, and a nail kit. “This will be a great deal of fun!” He exclaimed. 

“Yeah. Fun.” Hercules eyed the materials suspiciously, resisting the urge to gulp. He didn’t consider himself to be unhygienic in any way: He wore deodorant and washed his hair three times a week, showering everyday. He didn’t understand the point of all the other stuff Lafayette adored. 

Lafayette nodded eagerly. “Let us begin with your nails!” He took Hercules’ large hand in his own, taking out a mysterious, sharp-looking tool from his nail kit. He pressed the pointy end underneath Herc’s nail and dug out the dirt and dead skin, pulling it out to reveal just how much there was. Hercules’ eyes widened and he was a bit grossed out. 

“That was just under my nail?” He asked, staring in shock. 

Lafayette nodded. “Yes.” He confirmed, wiping the muck onto a napkin, Hercules unable to pull his gaze away from it. “This is why you must clean them.” He repeated the process with each of Hercules’ nails, the napkin growing dirtier and dirtier. Herc was glad to be rid of it. 

Next came another strange tool, pushing at the skin holding his nails in place. Hercules wanted to ask questions, but Lafayette seemed to know what he was doing, so he remained silent. He watched in morbid fascination as his boyfriend clipped and cleaned his nails. By the time he was done filing and clipping and shining, they seemed to almost shine. 

“Now, what color of polish?” Lafayette asked, opening his box of nail polish. “I recommend black for you.” 

Hercules just nodded. “Black. Black, yeah. Sure.” He had no idea what he should choose, so it seemed to be the wisest decision to agree with whatever Laf said. 

Lafayette beamed and continued working on his boyfriend’s nails. After some time, he declared them to be finished. “There!” He sat back, revealing Hercules’ newly cleaned, trimmed, and colored nails. He hated to admit how genuinely beautiful they were. 

“Wow.” He stared, admiring them. “They look nice. They look really nice.” He admitted, blushing. “Really nice. You did a great job.” 

“Thank you!” Lafayette beamed and kissed Hercules’ cheek. “I am glad you like them! Shall we continue?” He asked, tilting his head. 

Hercules nodded, smiling. Maybe he wouldn’t mind this as much as he originally thought.

 

** ADRIENNE DE LAFAYETTE AND PEGGY SCHUYLER  **

 

****

Peggy panted, chest rising and falling rapidly. “My God.” She murmured, turning on her side to gaze at her gorgeous girlfriend. How had she managed to get so lucky? Adrienne was wonderful in every way. She was beautiful and intelligent and incredible in bed. It was impressive. She reached out to play with Adrienne’s dark hair that was usually hidden behind a hijab.

Adrienne chuckled and sat up. “You were wonderful.” She praised, reaching over to brush a few wild curls from her girlfriend’s face. “Absolutely incredible.” She pressed a kiss to her lips before rolling out of bed. She walked to the closet to fetch the skin cream. 

“I don’t need that.” Peggy whined, wanting to just lay in bed and cuddle. She knew that Adrienne was adamant about aftercare, but it could be so tedious at times. “Come on, let’s just cuddle and sleep.” She pressed, putting on a pouty face and big puppy-dog eyes. 

Adrienne shook her head. “Absolutely not.” She said sternly, sitting on the edge of her bed. “I will not my darling paon in pain.” She squeezed a bit of the cream onto her palm. “Come now.” 

Peggy huffed, but crawled over to Adrienne, allowing her ass to face her. “I like pain.” She pointed out, resting her chin in her palm. “Which is how we got into this situation in the first place.” 

Adrienne hummed, rubbing the lotion onto Peggy’s abused skin, making her hiss at the contact. “Pain is wonderful in the bedroom, but you need to be able to walk and sit.” She chided, gently massaging the red marks she had left against the freckled skin. “Pain is only for certain times, my lovely.” 

Peggy rolled her eyes and shrugged. “I disagree, but you’re not going to let me change your mind.” She threw her head down on the mattress petulantly. Her curls flew out around her and she closed her eyes, allowing her girlfriend to dote on her. She had to admit that it was rather nice. Adrienne’s hands were smooth and soft and she took such care with everything she did. Peggy could fall asleep just like that. 

Alright, mon paon.” Adrienne moved away. “It is time for bath.” 

Peggy whined. “Don’t wanna get up.” She protested. “I’m comfy right here.” She snuggled close to a pillow to emphasize her point. 

Adrienne sighed, but her eyes held only adoration. “Alright. We may rest for a moment longer, but then shower.” She insisted, crawling back into bed with her. She wrapped her arms around her and held her close. It was incredible how lucky she was. 

 

** AARON BURR AND THEODOSIA BURR **

 

****

Aaron sat in the uncomfortable hospital chair, adjusting himself repeatedly. He sighed to himself, leaning forward. He gazed at the hospital bed, watching his wife’s chest steadily rise and fall. He reached out and took her hand in his own, rubbing tiny circles against the back with his thumb. He kissed her knuckles gently, tears filling his eyes. 

He hurriedly wiped them away when she began to stir, forcing a small smile. “Hey.” He said quietly, squeezing her hand. “How are you feeling?”

Her head tilted towards him, eyes fluttering open. She returned his strained smile, wincing slightly as she took in a breath. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult for her. It broke Aaron’s heart to watch. “I’m alright.” She lied.

“Good. Good.” Aaron exhaled, blinking away his tears. “I’m glad.” She was so weak. How was he supposed to just watch her fade away? Their daughter needed her. He needed her. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t. He would be lost without her. 

Theodosia nodded before breaking into a coughing fit, lunging forward. Aaron hurried to her side, wrapping her in his arms and rubbing her back. “I-I-” She coughed again. “I’m okay. I’m-”

“Shh. Save your breath.” Aaron whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. I know you will be.” He closed his eyes. “I know you will be.” He took deep breaths, hating that he was lying to himself and to her. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. He was trying so hard not to cry in front of her. He didn’t want her to see how scared he was. 

Theodosia nodded, eventually getting her breathing under control. She took gasping breaths, each one audible. It sounded so painful. Aaron climbed into her bed, holding her against his chest. He blinked through his tears, burying his face in her hair. He clung to her, unwilling to let her go for even a moment. 

“When I’m gone-”

“No.” He shook his head. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be fine.”

“Aaron.” She managed to muster the strength to sound firm. “We both know that isn’t true.”

He couldn’t fight back the tears that threatened to spill over. They splashed hot on his cheeks, stealing his breath away. He felt like he was drowning. “I-”

“It’s okay.” She said softly. “It’s okay.” Her voice came out as barely above a whisper. 

He shook his head. “It’s not.” He choked out. “It’s not okay. It’s not. I need you. Theo needs you.” 

“She’ll have you.” She smiled shakily. “She’ll always have you.” She pulled his hand to her lips. “And you’ll have her.” 

Aaron shook his head, letting out a short sob. “I need you.” He closed his eyes, unable to stop shaking. “I need you.”

“I know.” Her voice broke. “I know and I’m sorry I have to leave you.” 

“Don’t.” He begged, holding her close. “Don’t leave me. Please. Please.”

“Aaron,” She trailed off, adjusting so she was facing him. “Aaron, you’re going to be okay. You’ll be alright.” She cupped his face. “You’ll be alright.” She kissed him softly. “Just take care of Theo. Let her know that I will always love her, even when I’m not here. Just let her know that. Can you do that? For me?”

Aaron hesitated before nodding. “I- Of course.” He whispered. “Of course.” He held her close. “She’ll know. She’ll always know.” 

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes. “Thank you.” A weight seemed to be lifted from her shoulders as she relaxed into her husband’s arms, falling into a peaceful sleep, leaving her husband to bare the pain alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be two chapters because I have more ships to do. I really wish I could draw some of these ships and scenes, but alas, I can not. You can request other ships for the next chapter (or two) to include! 
> 
> Please leave feedback and comments! They make my life so, so wonderful! I love all of you! The pacing for this chapter was probably weird, but oh well


	21. A Heart Full of Love Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I wrote these last two chapters just for myself, okay? I love them. Don't complain when you're getting multiple chapters in a day, plus a chapter of Cotton.

**MARIA REYNOLDS AND MARTHA MANNING**

 

****

Maria was amazed at how lucky she was. She was well-aware of the horrible things that had happened in her life, but everything somehow turned out okay for her even when they shouldn’t. The wife of the man she slept with had accepted her into her home and offered her friendship. Her daughter had made friends despite her being put down for social interactions for all of her life. What was more, she had been allowed to live with an incredibly kind, supportive, intelligent, and beautiful woman. 

Martha Manning was perfect in every way. She couldn’t understand why someone like her would give someone like Maria the time of day. She didn’t deserve it. She never could. Martha was too wonderful. She was a hard-worker, working several hours a week at a veterinary clinic. She was a gracious mother, knowing how to parent her daughter with a gentle, yet firm hand. She was able to provide for her daughter without an abusive husband on her back and she even had enough left over to offer people like Maria. She was everything Maria aspired to be. 

Maria watched the woman as she busied herself about her kitchen, humming and tossing ingredients into a pot. She glanced up at Maria and offered her a warm smile. “What?” She asked, her cheeks glowing pink. 

“Nothing.” Maria said hurriedly. “Nothing at all.” She looked away, attempting to hide her blush. 

“Oh, none of that.” Martha lowered the temperature on the stove before approaching the woman and sitting beside her. “You know you can tell me anything.” She took her hand in her own.

Maria flushed darkly, taking a breath. “I was just thinking.” She said slowly. “You’re really just amazing.” She admitted, running her free hand through her wild curls. “That’s all.”

Martha chuckled. “I could say the same about you.”

“No, you really couldn’t.” She insisted. “I’m not like you. I’m a whore and a terrible mother.” She protested, looking down. “You’re the opposite of me.”

Martha rose an eyebrow. “That’s certainly not true.” She said softly, rubbing the back of her hand with her thumb. “You’re wonderful.” She reached over to tilt Maria’s head up so she would meet her gaze. “You are a wonderful mother. Your daughter admires you so much.” She whispered. “I had a one-night stand with a man I barely knew, only for him to ignore his daughter for her entire life and then kill himself.” She sighed. “You might have better sense than I do.” 

Maria shook her head. “No. No, never.” She moved closer. “You are far, far too good for me.”

“I don’t think so.” Martha murmured. “Even if I did, I want you. If I’m too good or not.”

Maria blinked slowly. “You- You want me?” She asked, head spinning. She couldn’t possibly mean what she thought she might mean. 

Martha chuckled. “I would have thought that was obvious.” She smiled, leaning closer. Maria’s breath caught in her throat as Martha pressed her lips against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut and she leaned into the touch. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she couldn’t believe was was happening. Martha Manning was kissing her. Martha Manning wanted to be with her. The world seemed to melt away in that moment. In that moment and just that moment, everything was perfect.

 

** FRANCES ELEANOR LAURENS AND ANASTASIE DE LAFAYETTE **

 

****

Frances Eleanor set up the Wii, her curls tied in a ponytail behind her. She chewed on her lip and began pacing as soon as she was finished. What if Anastasie didn’t like the games she had? What if she didn’t want to play? Frances just wanted Anastasie to feel impressed by her. That’s all she wanted. She was so worried about her girlfriend feeling ashamed of her. The two of them had been dating for some time now, but that didn’t exactly change things. She was still so anxious.

“Frances, please relax.” Her mother sighed, leaning back on the couch. “Worrying over everything won’t help.” 

“You don’t understand!” She protested. “If Anastasie doesn’t like the games I chose for us to play, she won’t like me!” 

Her mother chuckled, not understanding the seriousness of the situation, clearly. “Honey, Anna already likes you.”

Frances rolled her eyes. “Her name is Anastasie.” She corrected. “Only Americans call her Anna because they can’t pronounce her real name.” 

“You are an American, dear.”

“But I can pronounce her name!” 

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Frances looked up and smoothed out her shirt before opening the door to find her girlfriend standing in the doorway. “Salut!” She greeted, giving Frances a kiss on the cheek before skipping inside. “How are you?” She asked, looking back at her. 

“I’m good!” Frances beamed, unable to take her eyes off of the other girl. She was so pretty. How was she so pretty? God, Frances was gay. “I have some games for us to play. I was thinking Mario Kart?” She suggested, rocking back on her heels. “It could be really fun, unless you don’t want to.” She stumbled over her words in her rush to get them out. 

Anastasie laughed. “This sounds fun.” She assured, reaching over and squeezing her girlfriend’s hand. “Let us play!” She plopped down on the couch. 

“Alright!” Frances beamed, taking a seat next to Anastasie. She handed her a controller, setting up the game. She smirked. “Are you ready to lose?” 

Anastasie laughed loudly. “You wish!” She winked as the game began. It was a tense battle, the two of them neck and neck for most of the race. Anastasie barely managed to pull ahead in the last second. She cheered, but Frances demanded a rematch. This went on for hours, until Ms. Manning decided that the time for video games was over. 

Frances led Anastasie into her room, sitting on her bed. “What now?” She asked.

“You draw, yes?” Anastasie questioned. “May I see your sketchbook?” She tilted her head, a friendly smile on her face. 

Frances turned red. “O-Oh, I-” She glanced to the side, blushing darkly. “Well- I- I suppose.” She shifted. 

“We do not have to.” Anastasie assured, taking her girlfriend’s hand. “Only if you are comfortable.” 

“No, it’s alright!” Frances went to grab one of her sketchbooks, thrusting it into Anastasie’s hands. She refused to look at her as she flipped through, playing with her hands instead. 

Anastasie flipped through the sketchbook, eyes wide as she studied the pictures. “These are beautiful.” She remarked. “Is this me?” She asked, looking over. Frances just nodded shyly. Anna smiled and scooted closer. “It’s beautiful. You’re very talented.” She kissed her cheek. 

Frances blushed and giggled anxiously. “You think so?”   


“Absolutely.” She watched her with admiration in her eyes. “I think I am so lucky to have such a wonderful girlfriend.” She pecked her lips quickly, causing Frances’ face to heat up. She really was the luckiest girl in the world. She may only be fifteen, but she was certain that this would last forever. 

 

**ALEXANDER HAMILTON AND ELIZABETH SCHUYLER**

 

****

John heard the knock on the door before Eliza did. He approached the window, peering out. His brows knitted together as he recognized Alexander outside of the door. What was he doing here? Eliza had made it pretty clear that he wasn’t allowed back for a long time. John looked behind himself to where Eliza was napping on the couch, little John asleep on her chest. She hadn’t heard the knock. 

Alexander knocked again, this time waking Eliza. She blinked around, blurry-eyed. She looked down at her baby, smiling warmly at him. She picked him up and stood, going to answer the door. Her eyes narrowed as she saw her husband on the other side. 

“Alexander.” If she didn’t have a one-year-old in her arms, she would have them crossed. “What are you doing here?”

“Eliza,” Alex began, swallowing a few times. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I messed up. I know. I know that I messed up and I am so, so sorry.” He wrung his hands. “You don’t have to forgive me. I honestly don’t expect you to.” He closed his eyes and took a breath. “But, I miss my children. I am out of a job and out of a home. I have lost both of my spouses over the course of two years.” His eyes opened again and he made eye-contact with Eliza. “But I need my children. If nothing else, I need them. Please.” He begged, seemingly genuine. 

Eliza sighed, hesitating. She didn’t know if she was ready to let him back into her arms. “Come in.” She said eventually, stepping aside to let him in.

He sighed in relief. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He hurried inside. “You won’t regret this. You won’t. I promise.” He closed the door behind him. “I’ll find another job and I’ll do good. I’ll do real good this time, Eliza. I promise.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” Eliza sounded unconvinced. She went to put baby John down, placing him in his crib and turning on the baby monitor. “You can pick up the children from school.” She informed Alexander. 

It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, I want to draw these scenes XD. Martha and Maria have become sort of my favorite thing, oops. 
> 
> Anyway! Please leave comments! There's only a few more chapters until Very Big Event happens, so you'll want to keep checking back for more chapters! At this rate, the fic will probably be finished by the end of the month!


	22. Blow Us All Away

Normalcy returned with Alexander. The family followed routine, Alexander was rehired once the affair blew over. Time moved along. Years passed. Theodosia Burr Sr. passed away, much to Aaron Burr’s distress. He seemed colder, more standoffish ever since. John couldn’t blame him. The death had changed him. Eliza eventually forgave Alexander and their relationship became what it once was. Maria Reynolds divorced her husband and became Maria Lewis once again. The children grew up.

Frances Eleanor and Anastasie broke up after a pointless fight. Not all young love could last forever. She’d had many girlfriends since then, being quite the flirt and over-eager for love, but none of her relationships lasted for longer than a year. She wasn’t exactly the type who wanted to be tied down immediately, eager for love she may be. Frances got really into her art, joining art programs and putting herself through as many art classes as she could take. Before John knew it, she was graduating high school and going off to college. She was an adult and John hadn’t been able to personally be there for any of it. He was still so proud of her. So, so proud.

Philip proved himself to be extremely gifted in poetry and writing, taking after his father. He would write for hours at a time, seemingly unable to stop. What was more was that he came out as bisexual and polyamorous, proving himself to be even more like Alexander. He had also started dating Aaron Burr’s daughter, something that Alexander highly disapproved of. John thought that the two of them were really cute together, if he was being honest. Theo was a spirited and opinionated woman with a passion for photography and she truly cared for Philip. Philip and Georges had also been flirting recently and John could feel the sparks flying between the two, not to mention the chemistry between Theo and Georges. John thought that they would be curious.

Angie was faring the worst of the children. She’d been pulled from public school so Eliza could home-school her due to her falling behind in her classes and being bullied for talking to the ghost of her dead father. It was decided that being home-schooled would be best for her. John had to agree. He still spoke with her. He complimented her drawings and listened to her play piano. She seemed to be unable to grow up, trapped in a childish state of mind. She was forever young. She didn’t seem to mind, though. She was happy the way she was, which was all that John could hope for, really. He just wanted her to be happy, whatever that meant for her.

Fanny had dropped out of school. She was bored by it and wanted adventure. She had run away from home a few times in search of something more entertaining. She had started a band with a few of her friends and it was going well. She made a surprising amount of money from it. John honestly didn’t mind that she had dropped out, with how happy she was. She was brilliant when it came to music and he highly doubted that any school could teach her something that would prove helpful. She had begun dating Susan Reynolds, who was the keyboardist in her band. The two of them were cute together, even if they got into a great deal of trouble. They had been arrested quite a few times, but they enjoyed living life on the edge. John was worried about them, but he tried to be optimistic.

Alex Jr. had volunteered to enroll in military school. He’d developed a fascination with the military and decided that he wanted to join the army the moment he turned seventeen. The thought made John incredibly anxious. He didn’t want any of his babies to have to fight for their lives. Alex seemed extremely eager; however, and it appeared that was what he really wanted. He was organized and he enjoyed military school despite being away from his family. He thrived in it and John wanted him to be happy, but he couldn’t entirely approve. He couldn’t exactly object, either, but that hardly mattered.

James had grown to adore reading. He lived for it. He needed glasses, but he thrived whenever he could read or write. He was a bit shy, tending to avoid the spotlight or pretty much any social interactions, but he was a truly bright child. He was eager to learn as long as it was on his own. He didn’t have many friends, which John found to be a bit sad, but James himself seemed completely unbothered. He had his books and television to keep him company. He also enjoyed watching the news more than most kids his age. It was clear that the boy would have a career in politics one day. He joined his school’s debate club and he was surprisingly amazing at it. Despite not wanting to talk unprompted, he could debate like none other. Once he was given a topic, he could go off in a manner that could and did rival Alexander. When the two of them got into an argument, John was afraid that the universe might be destroyed by the pure power of it.

John Church had grown into a bit of a dick. Even as a child, he was arrogant and thought he was better than his own family. He looked down on his siblings and even on his own parents. He had managed to befriend a group of homophobes and racists, much to his entire family’s displeasure. He saw his own family as disgusting and it broke John’s heart. He demanded that everyone call him JC and claimed not to want anything to do with his dead father. John still remembered the first time his own son had declared that he had deserved to die. It was the only time John had ever seen the full extent of Alexander’s anger directed at one of his children. It had been terrifying. John didn’t blame his son, though. He was just a child echoing the words of his friends. He still loved him.

There were two more additions to the Hamilton-Schuyler-Laurens family: Little William and baby Eliza. They were too young to have fully developed personalities, but John adored them. They were so sweet and innocent and he wished that they could have grown up knowing him. It hurt that they couldn’t.

Time had passed. Life was going on for everybody. Things were happy. John’s family was happy.

It was a Friday afternoon when they got the call. The children were at school. Eliza was at home with Angie, Will, and baby Eliza, pregnant with yet another child. The phone rang and she picked up with a smile.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Hamilton? You might want to sit down. We have news regarding your son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments.


	23. Un Deux Trois

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters will discuss the aftermath of a school shooting. If such things might harm you, I recommend that you do not read these chapters.

“Mrs. Hamilton? You might want to sit down. We have news regarding your son.” John frowned when he heard the words coming from the speaker of Eliza’s phone. News? What sort of news? Which son? That opener didn’t sound good; it made John anxious. 

Eliza seemed to be thinking the same thing, a frown coming over her face as she took a seat on the couch. “News?” She echoed. “Which of my sons might you be referring to?” She began to fiddle with the hem of her dress with her free hand. 

“Philip Hamilton, ma’am.” The person on the end of the line said. “There’s been an accident.”

“Accident?” John could hear the anxiety rising in her voice. “What sort of accident? Is he alright?” 

There was a brief pause, long enough for dread to settle in John’s stomach. “There was an active gunman in his school today.” John felt his blood run cold. “The man opened fire on several students, your son included.” 

Eliza inhaled sharply and silence settled over the room. The air was tense. John couldn’t fully process what he had just heard. “Is he okay?” Eliza’s voice was trembling, as were her hands. She was struggling to keep herself together, to keep from bursting into tears. 

“He’s here, in the hospital. We implore you to come as soon as you are able.” 

“Yes. Yes, of course. Thank you.” Eliza hung up the phone and sat in silence for a long moment, staring blankly at the wall in front of her. She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes, fighting back tears. “Oh God.” She breathed, quickly standing and dialing Alexander’s number. She had to call several times before he picked up, cutting him off before he could say a word. “Meet me at the hospital. It’s Philip.” She hung up without another sentence. She quickly went to wake William and strap him into his carseat before returning inside to do the same with little Eliza. She ushered Angie out and into the car next before speeding off towards the hospital. 

Her hands were shaking violently and tears had started to spill over. John was crying too and he didn’t even remember when he had started. He struggled to take in enough air, sitting stiffly and staring out of the car window. The events started piece themselves together in his mind. A shooter. Philip’s school. Opened fire. Philip shot. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. This couldn’t be happening. 

“Mommy, Daddy, what’s going on?” Angie asked from the backseat, sounding worried. She was so young, so innocent. She couldn’t possibly understand what was going on. Eliza didn’t answer, keeping her eyes on the road. “Mommy?” Angie whispered, voice so tiny and frightened. 

John took it on himself to answer. “Philip might have gotten hurt, sweetheart.” He explained, surprised by how choked up he sounded. “We’re going to go see him.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“We- We don’t know, sweetheart.” John admitted quietly, closing his eyes. “We just don’t know.” That was the most terrifying part, wasn’t it? John had no idea what happened, how bad it was. Philip had to be okay, though. He had to be. Everything was going to be alright.

“Oh.” Angie went silent after that, just waiting out the car ride. John was thankful that he didn’t have to answer any more questions. He didn’t blame Angie for asking them, she just wanted to understand, but he didn’t think he could handle having to answer. He was too scared and confused himself. 

They pulled up to the hospital, Eliza taking baby Eliza from her car seat and holding her close. “Angie, can you get Will?” She requested, blinking through her tears. 

Angie nodded and exited the vehicle, picking up her little brother. She carried him inside and John swallowed as he saw all of the people flooding the waiting room. Parents crying. Students shaking. He recognized a few families from Philip’s school. It was really serious. God, what had happened? John recognized Theo Burr sitting on one of the cushioned chairs, shaking and covered in blood. His heart sunk as he watched how her eyes darted around the room in pure panic. 

She recognized the Hamiltons and stood, rushing over. “It’s my fault!” She blurted, tears filling her eyes. “It’s my fault! I was there and he-” She broke down, her body wracked with sobs. “H-He-” She buried her face in her hands. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eliza stared at the young girl, at a loss for what to do. She was too overwhelmed and couldn’t handle this. “I-”

“Angie, stay with Theo.” John urged his daughter, placing a hand on her back. “Keep her occupied. Can you do that for me?”

Angie nodded quickly. “Theo, we can talk.” She offered, holding baby Eliza with one arm and taking Theo’s arm with the other. She led her away from her parents, sitting in a chair beside her. She set her younger sister in her lap and hugged Theo as the girl sobbed into her shirt. Little Will toddled after them.

Eliza sighed in relief, turning to the receptionist and asking for her son. She was led to a hospital room where Philip was laying on a bed. He was covered in bandages, an IV attached to him. Alexander had already arrived, holding his son’s hand tightly. He looked up at Eliza, tears streaming down his face. He appeared to be at a loss for words. He looked so broken, so helpless. 

Eliza moved passed him to put her hands on Philip’s arm. “Philip.” She whispered, reaching up to stroke his hair back. “Philip.” Her voice broke. “Oh, my boy. My dear boy. My son.” 

“Mom.” Philip choked out, clearly in a great deal of pain. “Mom, I-I’m sorry-”

“No. No.” Eliza shook her head, blinked away her tears. “No, shh.” She continued trying to soothe him. “Shh. You have nothing to apologize for.” She assured. 

Philip shook his head, wincing in pain. “No, I-” He gasped, grunting in immense pain. John put a hand over his mouth and backed away. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening. “I provoked him.” Philip choked out. “He came in and I yelled at him. I-”

“You were brave.” Eliza shook her head, taking breath after breath. “You were so brave.” 

“Didn’t do what you taught me.” Philip tried to laugh. “Should have kept quiet. Should have-”

Eliza shook her head. “No. No.” She crawled into the hospital bed beside him awkwardly. She held him as well as she could with her rather pregnant belly. “I’m proud of you. I’m so, so proud of you.” She assured him, running her fingers through his hair. “So proud.” 

Philip smiled shakily, breaths becoming more and more labored. “I’m scared, Mom.” He whispered, tears falling onto his cheeks. “I’m scared. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to.”

Eliza let out a sob, clinging to her son tightly. “I know. I know, baby.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I know.”

“Remember when you used to teach me piano?” Philip asked, looking up at his mother. “You used to sing to me.” 

Eliza nodded, smiling sadly. “I remember. Of course, I remember.” She assured, looking into his eyes. “Of course.”

“Can you sing to me?” Philip requested. “Please?” 

Eliza nodded slowly. “Of course. Of course.” She closed her eyes and attempted to find her voice. “Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf.” She sang slowly. 

Philip began singing after her, changing the melody as he used to when he was a child. “Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf.” He closed his eyes. 

“Good.” Eliza nodded, her own eyes falling closed, as if she was pretending that he was just as young as he once was. “Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf.”

“Un deux trois quatre cinq six-” Philip trailed off, the lines on the heart monitor going flat, ringing out a dull, monotone note. 

Eliza clutched her son tighter, even as doctors flooded into the room. “Sept huit neuf.” She finished for him. “Sept huit neuf. Sept huit neuf.” She was pulled away from Philip by a doctor and she  _ screamed.  _ It was the most blood-curdling scream John had ever heard. Both her and Alexander were pulled from the room, but John remained. No one could see him to pull him away. 

He stared at Philip’s body, watching as the doctors attempted to revive him, with no success. His son laid motionless on the bed, unbreathing and growing cold. Dead. His son was dead. John’s head started spinning. He felt himself become numb to everything around him. He couldn’t believe it. Philip was so young; only nineteen. He had so much to live for. He couldn’t just die. This couldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen. John couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t look away. He just stared at his poor boy’s body. He felt nothing but the hot tears splashing onto his face. His eyes widened and he froze as he heard a familiar voice behind him. That was impossible. It couldn’t happen. His entire world turned upside down. 

“Dad?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please comment. This fic is slowly coming to an end. We only have a few more chapters to go and I'm honestly so sad about it. I will be working on other fics once this is done! I plan on continuing to write Cotton and Tomorrow There's This Us. I would appreciate it if people would go read and comment on Tomorrow There's Still Us so I can go work on it. 
> 
> I also am looking for fic ideas, if you'd like to offer them.


	24. Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with discussion of a school shooting. Please do not read if this will harm you.

John hesitated a long beat. That wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. He was hoping too much. He felt a ringing in his ears and his breath caught in his throat. He was already crying so hard. He was hallucinating. There was no other explanation. There couldn’t be another explanation. There couldn’t be.

“Dad? Dad, is that- That can’t be-” John slowly turned around, coming face-to-face with his son. His son who hadn’t been able to see him for the last ten years. Philip’s eyes were wide and scared, he was so confused. He looked behind John and stiffened, his gaze landing on his own corpse. “Oh my God.” He put a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

John slowly approached him, at a loss for what to stay. “Phil,” He said quietly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It’s alright. You’re alright.” He pulled him close, surprised to be able to actually have an impact on his son. Philip threw his arms around his father and began sobbing into his neck, choking up. John shouldn’t be happy. His son had just died. Why was he happy?

Phil could feel his father’s arms around him. He could hear him. Could see him. To Philip, John was actually there for the first time in ten years. That shouldn’t make John happy, but it did. He had been so frustrated with not being able to interact with any of his children apart from Angie. He adored Angie and he was so, so thankful that he was able to talk with her, but he loved his other children too. He’d wanted so desperately to talk to them; all of them. To have Philip really and truly back; that was incredible. He rubbed his son’s back, trying to soothe him. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the doctors deliver the news to Alexander and Eliza. He saw Eliza break down, collapsing into Alex’s arms. His heart went out to them, but he was just glad to have his son back.

Philip slowly pulled away, wiping his eyes. “A-Am I dead?” He choked out, studying his father’s face.

John nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid so.” He smiled sadly. “But it’s okay.” He assured him, squeezing his hand. “I’m here. I’ll be here.” He promised him, not planning on letting him go anytime soon. “I’ll be right here. No matter what.”

Philip nodded, sniffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, allowing reality to truly settle in. “Have you been here the whole time?” He asked, looking over at him. “Have you been a ghost? What are we?”

“I don’t know.” John admitted. “I don’t know what we are or why we’re still here.” He chewed on his lip. “I’ve been here since I died. I thought I wouldn’t wake up, but I did. I found myself alone beside my own body, unable to interact with anyone or anything. It was like I was here and yet I wasn’t.”

Philip nodded, seemingly deciding that made sense to him. His eyes widened after a moment. “Angie. Could she really-” John nodded and Philip stepped back. “Oh, God.” He mumbled. “She was right the whole time. We thought she was crazy.”

“I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t have believed it either.” John admitted, still not releasing his son’s hand. “It’s okay. I’m glad she could see me, at least. It was lonely when I was alone.”

“I can imagine.” Philip laughed humorlessly. “Is that my life now? Loneliness with no one to talk to?”

“No.” John quickly shook his head. “No, I’m here. I’m here this time. You’re not alone.” He squeezed his hand. “I’m here.”

Philip over at him, his shoulder-length curls tangled together. They were the same height now; so different from when little Phil would look up at his father. It was odd. John had never expected to be able to talk to his son again. “I missed you.” Philip admitted quietly, glancing away. “I missed you so much.”

“I know.” John stepped closer. “I missed you too.” He pulled him into a tight hug. “I was there. I watched you grow up. I never left you.” He stroked his hair comfortingly. “I was there when you won that writing competition in eighth grade. I was there when you received your first college acceptance letter. I was there for your first date.” He chuckled as he noticed Philip’s ears turning pink. “I was there. I would never truly leave you.”

There was a moment of tense hesitation. “Were you there when I was shot?” He asked, breaking the silence. “Did you see?”

John swallowed before shaking his head. “No. No, I didn’t see.” He admitted. “I was with your mother. I saw her get the call. I heard that you were hurt, but I don’t know anything else.” He pulled away. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“It was George Eacker.” Philip was never one to hesitate when he had something to say. “The little bitch graduated last year, but kept in contact with some people in the school. Apparently he asked Theo out last week, but she said no because she was dating me.” He explained rapidly. “So he showed up to school with a gun and he was threatening Theo, talking about how she betrayed him and how she was a tease and how she would just hurt guys like him, so I stood up because I didn’t want him to hurt her and I started yelling at him and calling him a coward and then he shot me.” He was growing angry just from talking about it. “It hurt like hell.”

John sighed, shaking his head. Philip was such an idiot. A brave idiot, but an idiot. He was so proud of him. This explained why Theo was insisting that this was her fault. “Yeah, getting shot hurts.” He agreed with a short smile. He really shouldn’t continue to be so happy to be with his son again.

“Yeah.” Phil shrugged. “Theo is okay, though, right?” He asked.

John nodded. “Yeah, she’s right outside.” He gestured vaguely to the door. “I saw her on our way in.” He assured him.

“Good.” Philip sighed in relief. “Good. Thank God.” He closed his eyes and nodded. “Good. I was worried.”

John nodded. “Come on. We should head out or we’ll have to walk home.” He led him to the door, slipping through when a doctor opened it. He walked with him to the waiting room, where Alexander, Eliza, and Theo were all sobbing and clinging to one another. Little Will just looked confused and baby Eliza was unbothered. Theo clung to Elizabeth, grabbing onto her and refusing to let go. Angie seemed confused and scared.

Philip’s face fell as he approached. “They think I’m dead.” He mumbled. “They don’t know I’m here.” It seemed to hit him that he really wouldn’t be able to interact with them again. He sank into one of the chairs beside Theo, watching her cry. He pressed a hand against her back, rubbing an attempt to soothe her. He hadn’t grasped that she couldn’t feel it yet.

Angie looked up and a grin spread across her face. “Philip’s not gone!” She exclaimed, pointing at him. “He’s right there! He’s with Daddy!” She looked between all three of her parents. “See? He’s with Theo. Theo, see?” She tugged on Theo’s sleeve.

Theo started crying harder and Alexander and Eliza shared a look. “Angie,” Eliza tried, but she couldn’t get any words out. She just shook her head and pulled her daughter close as she sobbed. She wouldn’t let go. She couldn’t.

Philip looked surprised. “You can see me?” He stared at Angie, who nodded in response. He smiled shakily. “I’m glad.” He admitted, glancing back at Theo. “I don’t want to be lonely.”

John was still happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! Also, I'd really appreciate people checking out my original works, as I work very hard on them, as well as my other fics. Also, I'm thinking about writing a Martha Manning/Maria Reynolds fic. Thoughts?


	25. Quiet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter once again deals with the aftermath of a school shooting. It's a long and sad one.

Philip’s funeral was held the following week. That week was mostly spent with John, Phil, and Angie spending time together. John had spent the whole week unable to stop smiling. He had his son back. He had another part of his family back. He was overjoyed. He had missed Philip so much and now he had him back. He felt incredibly guilty for being so happy, but he couldn’t exactly help it. Phil was his son and he could be part of his life again. 

Philip; however, seemed forlorn and distant. John couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t sure that there was a way people were supposed to react after recently dying. For the most part, he was keeping himself together fairly well. He just watched his family with a sad look in his eyes. He managed to smile and talk with Angie, continuing to teach her to play piano. The topic of his death went unmentioned by John, who wanted to wait until Philip was ready to talk about it. 

Angie, for her part, was mostly unbothered. Things hadn’t changed all that much from what she could tell. If anything, she got to spend more time with her older brother, who she adored. The rest of her family were a bit depressed, but that could be overlooked in favor of appreciating the new time she had with her father and brother. 

The day of Philip’s funeral was overcast, but it didn’t rain. It was a fitting day for a funeral in all honesty. The air was still and humid. Everyone wore all black. Some had even brought umbrellas just in case that might be needed. John mused that it looked like a scene out of a movie. A part of him hated that. 

Angelica Schuyler-Church had flown in from London and was standing beside her sister, clasping her hand. Eliza hadn’t stopped crying since she stepped foot in the graveyard. Angelica had held her close the entire time. She had been crying herself, but she was quieter, refusing to allow a sound to escape her while she was caring for her sister. She mourned her nephew, but she knew that a mother’s grieving was more important than her own. She would always put Eliza first. 

Peggy had arrived with the Lafayettes and Hercules, but she quickly left them to be with her sisters. She hadn’t said a word, which was extremely uncharacteristic of the chatterbox. She just stood with her family, hugging Eliza tightly when she saw her. No words were needed. She’d loved her nephew to the stars and beyond and now he was gone. A victim of a disgusting crime. To John’s surprise, she didn’t cry. She never cried. She just stood in solidarity with her sisters, her expression a pure mask of calm. It was unnerving. 

Lafayette and Adrienne stood beside each other with their children. Lafayette was distraught, unable to speak any English. He seemed to be having a complete meltdown. He was shaking and spoke in rapid, slurred French that no one seemed able to understand. John heard his own name escape the Frenchman’s lips on occasion, much to his confusion. He couldn’t understand what was going on in his friend’s mind. Laf had to excuse himself before the service even began, Adrienne accompanying him. 

That was nothing compared to Georges. The poor boy was a complete and utter wreck, unable to stop crying for even a moment. There was a vacant, lost look in his eye, like he was a young child who had found himself abandoned in the woods and didn’t know which way to turn. He was hopeless and helpless and scared and alone. He and Philip had been so close. John couldn’t blame him for being so distraught. His normally full and bushy curls seemed damp and calmer than they should have been, much like the man himself. He was usually someone who radiated energy everywhere he went, a cheerful grin and open arms. Now, he was nothing but a husk, an empty shell of the Georges that once was. John had expected him to be angry, to demand vengeance and justice, to swear that George Eacker would be locked up for the rest of eternity if Georges had anything to say about it. John saw none of that. Georges was just empty and scared and so unlike himself. It was unsettling and quite awful to witness. John wished that he were angry. 

Virginie stood beside her family, seemingly more scared than anything. Philip had been her age and she still considered herself to be a child. Sure, she was legally an adult, but she’d never been forced to behave as one in her nineteen years of living. She was, to all the world, a child. She wasn’t ready to grow up and certainly wasn’t ready to face the reality of her own death. It appeared that the choice was not hers; however, as she stood at the grave of one of her friends, a boy who she consider to be family. He was too young to die, but if he could die, it meant that so could she. She wasn’t ready to face that yet. She couldn’t. She looked down at the dirt, swallowing repeatedly. She continuously pulled down her hijab, a symbol of her adulthood that she’d worn long before she could be considered an adult. She took it off eventually, not ready to wear it. Her dark curls sprang free and flowed down her back. She didn’t know how to feel about the decision. She was bare to the public, bare for all to see. She didn’t need to cover herself in order to embrace her religion, she knew that. She held the fabric in her hands and closed her eyes, setting it aside. She couldn’t wear it. It was too suffocating, too much of a reminder that she was a woman and not a child. A child wasn’t permitted to die. 

Anastasie kept her hijab firmly in place, watching her sister closely. If she thought anything of Virginie’s decision, she didn’t say. She just wanted her sister to  be comfortable with who she was, no matter what she had to say about it. She stared at the mush of dirt under her nice shoes. It didn’t seem to have fully hit her yet. It felt like Philip would still be there when she returned to the Hamilton house. He would invite her to his next poetry slam and the whole family would attend. It wasn’t right that he would just be gone for the rest of forever. She glanced over at Frances Eleanor, who had brought her newest girlfriend along with her and was refusing to even look back at Anna. Anastasie had never truly gotten over her, but that was hardly important now. Her friend was dead, but it felt so unreal that she’d rather focus on a girl who she had broken up with years ago. It was so distant, so fuzzy. Philip would be back soon. Philip had to be back soon. 

Hercules had traveled with the Lafayettes and was trying to contain his anger. He held all of the rage John had expected from Georges and more. He was furious at the government, at the president, at the NRA, at the entire world for creating a universe in which a child couldn’t be safe going to school. He wanted to shout, to scream, to swear, to curse the world and everything it it, but he couldn’t. He was at a funeral. He needed to be quiet and respectful for not only Philip’s sake, but for the sake of the Hamiltons and for the sake of everyone who was mourning this child. John could see the way he constantly clenched and unclenched his fists in frustration. John wasn’t able to blame him. He would have been angry too. 

Hercules’ sons each arrived on their own. John W. brought his boyfriend, an anxious looking man by the name of Charles Adams who was a few years older than John W. He was the son of Alexander’s coworker, John Adams, who Alexander despised. From what John heard, Charles didn’t exactly get along well with his father either. From the moment he stepped out of his car, Charles was absolutely wasted. John W. spent most of his time supporting his boyfriend and keeping him from throwing up on Philip’s grave. He seemed a rather disrespectful sort, John couldn’t imagine any other reason someone would show up drunk to a funeral. Hercules also disapproved, pulling his son aside to chide him. John listened in on the conversation, learning that Charles was a chronic alcoholic and that while he was trying to get better, it wasn’t turning out entirely well for him. Hercules threatened to throw the man out, but John W. managed to convince him to let him stay after swearing that his partner would be on his best behavior. It was obvious that he loved Charles despite his issues and Charles seemed genuinely apologetic. John was unsure how he felt about the two of them. 

William Cooke Mulligan had arrived on his own and appeared to be more bored than anything, not that John could blame him. He and Philip hadn’t been close, as William rarely came along during activities involving multiple people. The man was more of an introvert than anything. Even now, he stayed by himself, watching the events from the sidelines. He was more there out of respect than anything. 

Burr stood with his daughter, who still blamed herself for Philip’s death. She was shaking and constantly burst into tears every few moments. She was a mess and john knew why. She had seen her boyfriend be shot in front of her by a boy she had once considered to be her friend. She would carry that with her for the rest of her life. She felt directly responsible for his death and she was completely unsure of what she could possibly do with herself now that he was gone. He had been the one she could always turn to and could always lean on, but where he once was stood only an empty hole. The poor girl was so lost. She found herself at Georges’ side, the older boy wrapping her in a tight embrace and holding her close. The two of them shared the loss of the boy they had so dearly loved. They had each lost a part of themselves along with  Philip in a way that only they could relate to. It broke John’s heart to see them crying in each other’s arms and he could see the pain etched on Philip’s face as he stood beside them, murmured apologizes that fell on deaf ears. John caught his son crying publicly for the first time since the day he died. 

The Washingtons had been unable to attend, as Washington himself was extremely sickly, too weak to even force his way out of bed. John’s heart went out to him and his wife, as well as his step-children. John hoped that the man would be okay, but knew that it was more than likely the end for him. He wondered if he’d be able to see him once he passed. He hoped so. He wanted to thank the man for all he had done for not only him, but for his children. 

Frances Eleanor had tears in her eyes as she stood next to her girlfriend. Of all the women she could have dated in her lifetime, Mary Jefferson was not one that John had expected to see his daughter with. This was Frances’ second longest lasting romantic relationship of her life so far, second only to her first true relationship with Anastasie. Mary made her happy, despite being the daughter of one of her step-father’s most powerful political rivals. The two of them shared much laughter, secrets, dreams, and tears. Especially now, on the day of Frances’ brother’s funeral. Frances Eleanor was in tears the entire service, refusing to let go of Mary’s hand. She stared at the grave at a loss for words. She and Philip rarely got to be a part of each other’s lives, but she truly valued him as her brother. She loved him as her brother. There was so much regret in not allowing herself to be closer with him. 

Mary, for her part, refused to leave her girlfriend’s side. Her dark braids hung around her face and she rubbed tiny circles on the back of Frances’ hand with her thumb. She was there to be Frances’ support and nothing more. She knew what it was like to lose a sibling, as she had lost several. The two of them bonded over that. They had both lost siblings and a parent, an experience that no one who hadn’t gone through it could possibly even try to understand. John was thankful for Mary, was glad that she was there for his daughter. He appreciated it. Frances needed someone to be there for her. 

Frances Eleanor’s parents stood nearby. Martha and Maria Manning, who had gotten married a few months prior. The two of them were better parents to Frances than John could have ever hoped to be. They gave her the world and supposed her each step of her life. John was thankful for them, too. 

Angie still didn’t understand why everyone was so sad. She kept asking questions of her parents and of Philip. John’d had to explain to her that Philip was like him now, and that only Angie could see him. That had upset her a great deal, but she’d accepted it. She stood with her family under the overcast sky, her expression one of contempt more than sadness. She still had the mind of a child, ever since John’s death. While she may physically have been seventeen, she was to the world only seven years old. She didn’t understand why she was special, why people treated her differently than others her age, why she could see those that others couldn’t. John wished that he could explain it to her. He wished that he had the answers that she needed, but he just didn’t. It broke his heart to admit that. 

Fanny stood beside Susan Reynolds, the two of them still together. She tried not to act upset in any way, pretended not to be bothered,but John could see how Philip’s loss hurt her. He had been her brother, had been the one to teach her so much, and now he was gone. He had been the one to first introduce her to music by teaching her to play piano as a child. That had jump-started her entire life’s purpose that had made her who she was. Of course his death had a deep impact on her. She just wanted to appear strong, tough, a bad-ass. That was always how Fanny wanted to present herself. She refused to cry until Peggy began delivering her eulogy, which had Fanny bursting into violent sobs and Susan had to escort her away. The two of them sat away from the crowd and began working on a new song together in honor of Philip. John thought it was a sweet gesture. 

Alex Jr. was taken out of military school for the week for his brother’s funeral. If he didn’t attend boarding school, he would have gone to the same high school as Philip, he would have been there. A part of him hated himself for choosing boarding school. A part of him wished he had been there. If he had been there, perhaps Philip wouldn’t have died. It was a foolish thought and deep down, Alex knew it was an unreasonable one, but he didn’t know the possibilities. Perhaps he somehow could have saved his brother just by attending the same school as him during the shooting. Alex and Philip hadn’t been as close as some of the siblings, but they were raised together and loved each other. They were brothers, no matter how often they fought or argued or were angry with one another. They were brothers and now one of them was dead. Alex could only think of the missed opportunities for apologies, for reconciliation, that they just ignored. It was too late to apologize now. 

James was in tears the entire time, streaming like waterfalls down his cheeks. He was only thirteen. He was a child who had just lost his oldest brother. Philip had always been there for him, he was his role model. He had been an inspiration to James since he was so, so young. Philip had been the cool and amazing older brother who was talented and brilliant and opinionated. He was a paragon of the perfect older brother. And now he was just gone. James was unable to fully believe it. He was too young to lose his brother. He wiped at his eyes, trying to hold himself together, without much success. How could he possibly know how to act without his brother showing him the way?

JC tried to act unbothered, as he always did. Little John Church Hamilton was never the type to admit his feelings about any situation. He was better than the crying people around him, he was stronger than them. He wouldn’t cry like them. He didn’t care that his brother was dead. Of course he didn’t. He was too strong to care. He refused to hold his mother’s hand, even when she offered it to him. He just stared down at his brother’s grave, swallowing repeatedly. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t. When Alexander stood to give his eulogy, JC couldn’t take it anymore. He turned on heel and he ran. He sprinted away from the funeral services, the dam breaking and tears flooding his vision. He fled from the crowd, from the reality of his brother’s death. He fled from the crying of others and from his own fear. He ran until he ducked inside of the church, diving into a bathroom stall to hide. He hugged his knees and started sobbing. His brother was dead. He was gone. He never would love him again. He would never read to him. He would never try to convince him that he was wrong. He was gone. He was alone. 

Little Eliza and Will were too young to understand what was going on. Will was four and Eliza was two. They wouldn’t even remember their older brother. That broke John’s heart. Little Will just held onto his mother’s hand as she held Eliza in her free arm. He just watched the crying people and played with his toys. He was too young to even know what he had lost. 

Elizabeth couldn’t speak. She remained silent throughout the entire service, staring blankly at the grave of her son. She had lost what was most important to her in the world. What was there to say about that? She had lost her son. Words could not express the pain that came from such an event. 

Alexander wouldn’t leave Eliza’s side. He stood by her every second of the service and before. The only time he left her was to deliver his eulogy, which he couldn’t even get through. He delivered the first line before retreating to her once again. He was lost and hurt and broken. John didn’t know what he would have done in his shoes. 

“I remember your funeral.” Philip spoke up from John’s right side, causing him to look over at him. “I remember it. I was so angry with you.”

“I don’t blame you.” John admitted, his heart sinking. He didn’t want to talk about his death. 

Philip hesitated. “Look how miserable everyone is.” He breathed. “It was like that at yours too.” 

John nodded, wondering where Philip was going with this. “It was.” He agreed. 

“And you chose it.” Phil looked over at John with tears in his eyes. “You chose to leave us. Why?”

John swallowed, choking on his answer. He wished he had one that was satisfactory. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments! Also, I'd like to give a shout out to Eva here on archive whose tumblrs are @emjo87003 and @hamilton-fic-writer who made me some absolutely beautiful fanart for this story!!! It really made my entire life and I cried a great deal over it!! If anyone wants to make fanart or just talk to me, my tumblr is @real-moritz-stiefel and I can't repay with money, but I will gladly write anything you wish in exchange!!


	26. Anger Like Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter involves discussion of suicide, as well as suicidal idealization and suicidal thoughts.

John was floored by that question. Why had he chosen to leave his family? Why had he chosen to leave them behind and make them miserable? Why had he left his friends, his partner, his children? It was a question he had been asking himself ever since he’d first woken up on the bathroom floor after shooting himself. 

Philip was expecting an answer; an answer that John wasn’t sure he could provide. Any response he could possibly give would be weak and Philip deserved better than that. He deserved a real, tangible reason. He deserved an explanation for why John had torn his life apart for so much of his childhood. 

“I don’t know.” He looked away, unable to bare looking into his son’s eyes after giving that answer. “I wish I had a better answer for you,” he said honestly, gaze fixated on a particular blade of grass in the distance. “But I don’t. I just don’t. I wasn’t being reasonable when I did what I did. I wasn’t thinking.” 

Philip was silent for a long moment. John couldn’t be certain if he was grateful for the quiet or not. “Try.” He spoke eventually, voice trembling with emotion. “Try to think. Try to know.” John glanced back at him, only to find an expression of almost anger written across his features. “Just try to do better than just not knowing.”

“Philip-”

“ _ Try.”  _ He demanded. 

John sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay.” He whispered, unable to deny his son anything. He closed his eyes, trying to think back to that night. “I was alone.” He breathed eventually, gathering the thoughts that had been in his head at the time. “You, your parents, and your siblings were away without me. I was entirely alone.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I felt unwanted, unneeded. I felt unloved.” 

“How?” Philip’s anger was rising, hands balling into tight fists. “You had a husband. You had children. How could you have felt unloved?”

John shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. I don’t-” He tried desperately not to cry. The last thing Philip needed was for John to cry. “I was sick. I don’t think I had been taking my medicine. I was thinking about my father.” 

“Your father?” Philip scoffed. “He has nothing to do with this! You hadn’t lived with him for years! You had left him behind!” 

“It isn’t that simple!” John protested, glancing at his son with such desperation. He couldn’t handle Philip yelling at him, not over this, not when John had already beaten himself up over it more times than he could possibly count. “I was raised by him! His words never just go away, even if I get away from him! He was my father!”

“You were  _ my  _ father!” Tears had begun spilling onto Philip’s cheeks. “You were my father and you left!” He stomped closer. “You left me! You left all of us! We needed you!”

John took a step back. “I-” He choked on his tears. “I’m sorry, Phil. I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, well, sorry isn’t good enough!” Philip pressed his hands against John’s chest and shoved as hard as he could, sending his father stumbling back. “Sorry doesn’t fix shit!” 

“Philip-” John reached for him, just wanting to pull his son to him and hold him close. “Philip, please.” He begged, unable to stop crying. 

Philip shook his head. “No!” He was shouting now, causing Angie to glance in their direction. “No, you don’t get to say anything! You left us! You abandoned us!” 

“I was sick!” He tried to explain, tried to connect with Philip. Why couldn’t he see that he regretted it? Why couldn’t he see that he regretted it every single day since it happened? John would have given anything to return to Phil, to all of his children. “I had depression, Philip. I was sick and scared and I thought you’d be better off! I thought you’d be  _ happier!”  _

“Look at how well that turned out!” He shoved him again, breathing heavily. There was a fire in his eyes that John had only seen a handful of times before. “No one was happier! We all fell apart because of you!” 

John knew that. Of course he knew that. He had seen it all. Philip knew that. Philip had to know that. “I’m sorry!” His voice broke. “Philip, I’m sorry! I didn’t want this! You know I didn’t want this! I loved you! I love you!”

“Bullshit!” Philip reeled back his fist and swung, his knuckles colliding with the side of John’s head. He was so taken off guard by this that he found himself falling to the ground, landing in the mud. He gazed up at his son in disbelief. He had just punched him. His son had just punched him. Philip glared down at him. “You never loved us. If you loved us, you never would have left.” 

John couldn’t stop crying. The tears continued flowing despite his desperate attempts to quell them. “I was-”

“You don’t get to use your stupid fucking depression as an excuse!” He spat down at him. “You don’t get to just make fucking excuses for leaving your fucking family!” 

John’s heart shattered. He knew that Philip was right. He had failed him. He had failed his family. He was a horrible father. He was disgusting. He disgusted himself. His children deserved so much better. Everyone deserved so much better. How dare he try to witness them? How dare he try to be a part of their lives? “I-”

“Shut up!” Philip snapped, anger controlling him. “Just shut up!” 

John let out a broken sob. He was so pathetic. He was awful. He wished that he had never come back. He wished that could have stayed dead. He wished Philip didn’t have to deal with him. He deserved this. He deserved Philip yelling at him. He deserved it. He deserved worse. He deserved so much worse. He wished he could kill himself again. He deserved that. He deserved to die for real. He deserved worse. He deserved to hurt himself. He deserved to be in pain. He was disgusting. So disgusting. “I’m sorry.” He choked out. “I’m so sorry.”

Philip shook his head. “I think you need to go.” He turned his back on his father. 

“Phil-”

“Just go!” He snapped, refusing to look at him. He couldn’t even bare looking at his own father. John disgusted him that much. How could John live with himself when his own son hated him?

He picked himself up and stared at Philip’s back, letting out tiny sobs every few moments. “T-Tell Angie g-goodbye.” He requested through his tears. “P-Please.” He slowly turned and walked away, wrapping his arms around himself. He wished he could die. He wished he could disappear. He deserved to disappear. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please leave comments! They keep me coming back and I don't want to abandon this when it's so close to being finished. 
> 
> Also, I stated two new multi-chapter fics that I would adore for people to check out! "The King Makes Three" is a LeeBury fic (Sam Seabury/Charles Lee) involving the two of them getting out of an abusive relationship with King George. 
> 
> Little Red is a Maria Reynolds/Martha Manning single mothers fic involving Maria trying to win full custody over her daughter while also trying to make time for her own love life and future. 
> 
> Plus, there is still Cotton, my LafLams fic about John bringing his partners to meet his conservative, Southern family. 
> 
> Please check all of those fics out if you haven't already and leave comments! I want to know people enjoy my work and that this story isn't just a fluke!


	27. Bonding and Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three more chapters left, guys!

John didn’t know where he was supposed to go after Philip kicked him out of his own home. He knew that he didn’t deserve to be around his family. He had betrayed them in a horrible way. He had left them. They deserved so much better than him. 

At first, he tried to stay with Frances Eleanor, but that became awkward extremely quickly. Mary Jefferson had practically moved in with his daughter and the two of them seemed to have some sort of allergic reaction if they weren’t touching for longer than four seconds. They were constantly on one another. Sometimes it was cute, like how Mary would rest her head on Frances’ chest when they watched television together or how the two of them would wake up tangled in bed together. There were the moments when Frances would snake her arms around her girlfriend’s waist while she was cooking or when Mary would sit in Frances’ lap as she was reading. They loved each other a great deal and it was very sweet how they interacted with one another. 

That being said, there were many times in which their constant touching was uncomfortable for John to be present during. He was unable to handle being there for too long, overcome by the general awkwardness that came with witnessing his daughter make out with her girlfriend without any awareness that he was there. It just felt wrong, so he left. He stayed with Martha and Maria Manning for awhile, but the constant fighting between Susan Reynolds and her mothers became too much for him. He tried staying with the Lafayettes and Hercules, but Georges had moved back in and was an emotional wreck, making it too overwhelming. 

John eventually decided to move in with the Washingtons. He wandered around their large house, his heart aching for his family. He missed them, but knew that he couldn’t return. He spent most of his time at Washington’s side, watching the sick man sadly. He was so sick, struggling to breathe at most times. He couldn’t even speak. It hurt John to watch, especially as he saw the effect this was having on his poor wife. Martha Washington constantly answered phone calls from her children and from political leaders checking in. It was obvious that the man wouldn’t last much longer. 

He sat by Washington’s side, listening to the man’s ragged breathing. It sounded so painful. Each in and out breath drained the man, bringing him closer to the brink of death. John winced as he listened to it. He hoped that he would be able to interact with Washington when he passed on, even if it was just for a moment. He just wanted to thank him and tell him goodbye, maybe shake his hand. Washington had been so kind to him and his family. 

John had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn’t realized that Washington’s ragged breathing had gone quiet. He noticed it all of a sudden, glancing down to see that Washington's chest had stopped rising and falling. John’s heart sunk as he glanced around himself, hoping to catch sight of Washington’s ghost, only to be met with nothing. He sighed heavily and stood, stepping aside as Martha Washington entered the room. 

“Do you need some water, George?” She looked over him, realizing the same as John had. “George?” John left before he had to watch her burst into tears. His heart clenched and he sat down in the Washingtons’ bathroom. He didn’t want to watch anyone mourn any longer, He couldn’t take it. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. Why must death be such a huge part of life?

Washington’s funeral was the week following his death. John had debated going, but he eventually decided that he should attend. He had to squint at the harsh sunlight of the graveyard. It was the opposite of what the weather was expected to be on the day of a funeral. John watched Washington’s step-children mourn and was met with the painful reminder that he had chosen to put his own children through that. 

The Hamiltons also attended, including Philip. It had been a month since John had faced his family and he wasn’t ready to so at Washington’s funeral, not when he was thinking about how he had hurt them. John caught Philip’s eye and he quickly turned around, not wanting his son to be angry with him. He was angry enough with himself. 

“Dad!” Philip jogged to catch up with him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Dad, I’m sorry.” He said quickly, words coming out in one breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He had tears swimming in his eyes. “I was just angry. I didn’t want you to leave.” He insisted. “I didn’t. I promise.” 

John slowly faced him. “Phil-”

“I’m sorry. Shit, Dad. Shit, I’m so sorry.” He burst into tears and wrapped his arms around his father. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 

John’s heart melted and he rubbed Philip’s back. “No. No, shh.” He whispered, holding his son close. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m okay.” He kissed the top of Phil’s head. “It’s okay.” He just held him close and let him cry as he looked across the cemetery at the funeral service. It was amazing how death could bring people together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this chapter feel as rushed to you as it does to me? I just don't know how to fix it. : / Also, please leave comments! And I started a one-shot book for the next-gen characters which is mostly fluff if you want to see how I write fluff! I take requests!


	28. Rivalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two More Chapters!!

John managed to find his way into a normal schedule again. He had a routine of following certain people around during their lives on certain days. It had become harder to keep track of all of the children with their rich lives, but he managed to continuously check up on them. Fanny and Susan were in the middle of a huge fight that they both wanted desperately to blow over, Frances Eleanor and Susan were considering officially moving in together, and Theo Burr and Georges had ended up together at last. Things were moving along, even as Alexander once again threw himself into his work with vigor. 

Following Washington’s death, Alexander was promoted to the head of the firm. He was the boss of all the bosses, a power that he was sure to abuse. He was enjoying his new power, using it to threaten Jefferson and Madison and anyone else who got on his nerves. Privately, John believed that it was only a matter of time until Alexander was fired. 

Alexander didn’t seem to share that concern. He walked through his office, stopping at every employee’s desk to check on them. He stopped in front of Burr’s, gazing down at him. “Working hard, Burr?” He asked, carrying his hands behind his back. 

Burr’s teeth clenched, obviously hating every second of Alexander being in charge. “Yes, sir.” He grunted, refusing to look up at him. He continued typing away at his computer.

Alexander sat atop Burr’s desk, glancing down at his computer screen. “Yes, I can see that you are working very hard.” He noted, his hair flipping into his face. 

“With all due respect, sir, I would be able to work harder if you weren’t here.” John snorted at Burr’s reply. He had to admit that he was correct. Alexander could be rather distracting, as John knew all too well.

Alexander rolled his eyes. “You need to prove that you can work through distractions.” He said simply, watching as Burr sighed and did his best to follow orders. Alexander just watched him work for a moment until Burr opened his drawer to retrieve a pencil sharpener, revealing a handgun resting inside. Alex’s eyes grew wide and he backed up. “Whoa, what the hell is that?”

“I have a permit.” Burr said quickly. “It’s just in case.” He put his hands up in defense. “I have all of my papers.”

“Just in case of  _ what?”  _ Alexander questioned in disbelief. “What exactly do you think is going to happen?” 

Burr sighed. “You can never be too careful these days.” He shrugged. “Look, you can’t tell anyone without them freaking out.” He warned. “I don’t want people to freak out over me defending myself. I know my rights.”

Alexander frowned. “Fine. Fine, you can keep your weapon, but I don’t want to see it again.” He warned, shaking his head and walking away. He was clearly unsettled by the fact that one of his employees had a gun. He went to go pester Jefferson instead, teasing him and putting more work on his plate just for the hell of it. He could do that now that he was the boss. 

There were several things that John didn’t like about Alexander being in charge. He was eagerly abusing his power in a cruel way. He fired John Adams after the man missed a week for his son’s death. Of all things, John would have thought that the loss of a child would have been something that Alexander could understand, but no. He had been waiting for Adams to skip work for just a moment so he could use it as an excuse to fire him. Adams’ wife had marched into the office and spent an hour grilling Alex for what he did. He seemed to show a bit of regret, but he was too proud to go back on a decision. 

Hercules was furious at Alexander for it, as it was Charles Adams who had died. The man had apparently killed himself after a falling out with his father, leaving John W. Mulligan a complete mess. He had yelled at Alexander shortly after Abigail Adams did, but Alexander was still as stubborn as ever. He never went back on a choice he had made, he’d rather die. 

He kept piling work on Jefferson and Madison’s plates, giving them more work than could possibly be reasonable. He was working them into the ground, not caring how they were suffering. He thought that the two of them deserved it, so he would continue working them as hard as they could. 

When Burr missed a day so he could help Theo prepare for a trip to France with Georges, Alexander fired him the next day. Burr had been shocked and angry, unable to understand why Alex was doing this. John himself was unable to understand why Alex was doing this. Burr hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d spent time with his daughter, that wasn’t a crime. 

Apparently, Alexander found out that Burr had slept with Angelica and that was just too much for him to take. He didn’t want to have to work in the same space as him, so he fired him over nothing. John had never seen Burr as angry as he was when he was fired. He had left quietly, but there was a fire behind his eyes. John couldn’t help the feeling that Alexander was going to regret this one day. 

When he arrived home, Alexander explained to Eliza what had happened. 

“You fired him?” She was in shock, eyes wide. “You fired him for spending time with his daughter? How could you do that?”

“Did you not here the rest?” Alexander scowled, pacing through the living room. “He had  _ sex  _ with your sister! He slept with her! When he was married! He’s a whore!”

“Alexander.”

“A slut!”

“Alexander.”

“He’s disgusting!”

“Alexander!” Eliza snapped. She sighed as little Eliza started crying in the other room. She went to retrieve her, bouncing her in her arms until she went quiet. “Alexander, I think you’re being hypocritical. You also have had an affair, in case you had forgotten.” 

Alexander deflated. “No, I didn’t forget, I-”

“Then why are you being so hypocritical?” She questioned. 

Alexander sighed. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “I just don’t like it. It feels personal.” 

“It’s not. It’s really not.” Eliza sighed. “Did you post online about him?” She asked, knowing her husband well. Alexander nodded slowly. “Show me.” He handed over his phone, where he had posted multiple things about how Burr was a whore who cheated on his dead wife and how he had never loved her. It was all rather nasty and disturbing stuff. “Alexander!” Eliza snapped with a shake of her head. “What were you thinking, writing all of this?”

“I- I don’t know.” He admitted in shame, bowing his head. 

“You will delete it as soon as we return.”

“Return from where?”

“The hospital.”

“What?”

“The baby’s coming.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please leave comments!


	29. Running Out of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is awful, but it exists.

 

John accompanied his family to the hospital to watch their next son be born. He stayed in the room with Eliza, watching the small child be delivered. He was tiny, even though he was carried to term. He was an itty-bitty little thing, small, but healthy. They named him Philip, after their first son. The first Philip cried for several hours afterwards and John held him close, rubbing his back. 

“This is how I felt when JC was born.” John admitted with a chuckle, running his fingers through Philip’s hair. “I cried just like you are.”

Philip wiped his eyes repeatedly. “They named him after me. That’s my little brother.” He whispered, unable to believe it. “That’s my little brother and I can’t even be there for him.” He murmured. “I can’t even be with him.”

“I know. I know, Phil.” John tried to soothe his son. “That’s how I felt when JC was born. That’s how I felt when Will and ‘Liza were born too. It’s how I feel now.”   


“It’s different.” Philip pulled away, wiping his eyes. “It’s so different.” He insisted, taking a deep breath. He’s my brother. I’m supposed to teach him and protect him. That’s my job.”

“He’s my son.” John pointed out. “I’m supposed to be there even more than you are.” 

Philip blinked, seeming to think for a long moment. “You consider him to be your son?” He asked eventually, looking surprised by that. “But you weren’t there when he was conceived, you won’t be there for any of his life.”

John felt a pain in his chest. “I know that. Of course I know that.” Why was Philip pointing that out now? John was well aware of the fact that he hadn’t played a part in his children’s lives in the past ten years. He had left them, after all. 

“But you still see him as your son?” Philip sounded confused, tilting his head. “You see Will and JC as your sons? Eliza as your daughter?”   


“Of course I do.” John nodded quickly. “Of course. They are my children.”

“How?”   


John sighed, running his fingers through his hair. How could he explain this to him? “They’re my husband’s children.” He began. “So they’re my children. Not to mention the fact that I’m still watching them. I love them.” 

Philip snorted a bit, looking down at the hospital tile. “You love JC even though he’s a dick?”

“Hey!” John swatted Philip’s arm lightly. “That’s your brother you’re talking about.” 

“It’s true!” He insisted. “Look, I love him, I do, but you can’t deny that he’s a bit of a jerk.” He argued, leaning back in the hospital chair. “He’s from a poly, gay household and he’s homophobic!” He crossed his arms. “How does that even happen?” He muttered. 

John sighed. “It happened because of his friends.” He explained. “His friends are from conservative households and he just follows the crowds.” He looked at Philip closely. “He’s nine years old. He doesn’t know any better.”

“Oh, bullshit.” Philip rolled his eyes. “He knows what’s up. He knows that you were gay. If he can understand that his father was gay and thus he doesn’t even want to share his name, he can figure out that he’s wrong and that he’s a jerk.”

John shrugged. “Maybe. But maybe he’ll change. I like to believe that he’ll change.” He said simply. “He deserves that chance. He’s still so young.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Philip sighed, wiping the last of his tears. “Jesus, I’m a mess.” He chuckled to himself. “I can’t believe my little brother shares my name. I guess it’s a good thing that I died before he was born.” He mumbled. “Having two Philips would be confusing.”

John chuckled. “That’s true.” He agreed. “I think they were running out of names anyway.” He laughed. 

Philip returned the laugh. “That’s true.” He agreed, nodding. “I have so many siblings. One named after each parent, plus two Franceses, Franci?” He considered. 

John snorted. “Franci.” He decided with a grin. “The plural of Frances should be Franci.”

“Alright.” Philip chuckled. “I can agree with that.” 

“Good.” 

Little Phil was brought home a few days later, being welcomed into a loving and full home. All of his siblings were excited about the newest addition, crowding around him despite Eliza’s protests. They all adored him. 

Frances Eleanor stopped by with Mary to meet her youngest brother, drawing several pictures to hang up in his nursery that Eliza and Alexander appreciated. She thought that he was absolutely adorable and promised that she would teach him to draw as he got older. 

Angie adored her newest brother, creating all sorts of nicknames for him. She wanted to avoid confusion between the new baby and older Philip, so she called him “Little Phil” and “The Baby Phil” and “Philly”. She thought he was the most adorable thing in the whole world. 

Fanny was eager to introduce Susan to her newest brother. She wrote him lullabies and insisted that she would make a musician out of him someday.  She saw him as a new muse, writing songs about him and telling all of her friends about him. She was a very protective older sister who wanted to show her brother off to the world. 

Alex Jr. loved his brother and promised that when he enlisted in the army, little Phil would be who he was fighting for. He wanted to fight to protect his family, no matter what it took. After Philip the First’s death and little Phil’s birth, that conviction only grew stronger. 

James was excited about his brother more than most of the others. He was the most family oriented out of the Hamilton siblings. He loved his family and constantly wanted to be around them. Little Phil was no different. He would read to him at night after sneaking into his room, sometimes falling asleep on little Phil’s floor. It was incredibly sweet. 

JC acted like he didn’t care about his newest sibling, but he was also still extremely closed off after the first Philip’s death. He wouldn’t talk and he barely slept. He refused to acknowledge anyone, but he would sometimes sneak into little Phil’s room as well. He would just watch the baby sleep. He seemed happy with that. He loved his little brother, even if he didn’t act like it.

Little Will was obsessed with his new brother. He was always watching him and giggling at him. He especially loved it when little Phil smiled or laughed. He went crazy for it, thinking that it was the funniest thing in the whole world. He would burst out laughing, just shrieking with laughter until little Phil would laugh again. 

Little Eliza just wanted to dress her new brother like one of her dolls. She would get upset when she was told that little Phil wasn’t a toy for her to play with. She was too young to really understand it. It was endearing when she wasn’t trying to lift the baby. 

Despite being rather tiny, little Phil ate quite a bit. He ate and ate and ate. Within a few months, he was larger than other enfants his age and he didn’t seem to be slowing down. He just kept eating and eating. He was a rather happy and healthy baby, surrounded by so much love. He didn’t notice the love that he wasn’t actively receiving from his namesake or his second father. Maybe he could feel it subconsciously. John hoped that he could. 

Alexander was ignoring calls from Burr, not wanting to deal with the man. He also hadn’t deleted the social media posts like he’d told Eliza he would. He just left them there, calling Burr a whore and untrustworthy. Alexander wasn’t paying attention, but John noticed how Burr’s career and entire life was falling apart around him. He noticed how it was even being taken out on his daughter. It wasn’t fair to the man. John hoped that Alex would realize his mistake and rehire him. That didn’t seem like it was going to happen, though. 

Alexander returned to work a few weeks following the birth of his son. He had missed more work than any of the employees he had fired for missing work. Once the day was through, he left the building through the parking garage, as he always did. He whistled to himself as he walked towards his car, John following him. Before John was aware of what was happening, he heard a loud shot go off and watched Alexander collapse. He spun around, seeing Aaron Burr standing with the gun Alexander had seen previously in his desk. The gun was still smoking. 

John’s eyes went wide and he looked between Burr and Alexander, seeing red start to grow from Alexander’s ribs. “Oh my God!” John stepped back, staring at Burr. 

Burr seemed to fully realize what he had done and he dropped his gun. “Shit!” He hissed, glancing around himself. “ _ Shit!”  _ He started pacing. “Oh my God. Oh my God, what did I just-” He heard footsteps hurrying closer. He looked up as several of Alexander’s employees approached the scene. There was chattering all around, everyone asking what had just happened. Someone grabbed Burr, John had stopped paying attention. 

He surged forward, kneeling by Alexander’s side. “Alex? Alex, oh God.” Was this the end? It couldn’t be. Alexander had so much life to live. “Alexander.” His eyes were so wide. 

Alexander coughed, delirious with pain. John heard someone call 911. He refused to leave his husband. Alexander was still alive, but he was losing blood quickly. He turned his head and seemed to make direct eye contact with John. His eyes widened and he reached for him. “John?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments. Please.


	30. The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically the last chapter, but I'm writing an extremely long epilogue and I might add that non-canon chapter where John comes back to life. I'm not actually happy with this chapter, as it feels weak for a last chapter, but tell me your thoughts.

Alexander fell unconscious shortly after calling out John’s name. John’s heart was beating a mile a minute in his chest and he felt like the entire world was doing backflips. Alexander was still alive and yet he had seen him. He shouldn’t have been able to see him. Did that mean that Alex was certainly going to die? No one else could see John. It didn’t make sense. John wanted to cry.

He accompanied his husband to the hospital, watching as the doctors called his family. The bullet had entered his back and was close to his heart. He probably wasn’t going to make it. Alexander was dying. John didn’t know how to feel about it, everything was happening far too quickly for him to keep up. He wanted his husband to be able to see him, he wanted to be able to speak with him, but he didn’t want Alexander to leave the children behind. Little Phil was still a baby, Alexander couldn’t just leave him without him remembering him. The kids needed him. John couldn’t afford to be selfish at a time like this. 

“Dad!” Philip jogged into the room, eyes wide. “Dad, what’s going on?” He looked between John and Alexander. “Pops got shot?” He asked in alarm, staring at Alexander’s unconscious form on the bed. “You were with him, what happened?”

John shook his head, still catching up with the day’s events. “I don’t know.” He took deep breaths. “I don’t know.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “It was an ordinary day at work, but then there was a shot and Burr was there and then Alexander looked at me and-” He shook his head, tears in his eyes. 

“He looked at you?” Philip asked in confusion. “Like, he could see you?”

“I think so.” John nodded, just as confused. “I can’t be sure, but he looked at me and said my name.”

Philip’s mouth hung open and he just stared blankly at John. “Is he going to die?” He whispered eventually, swallowing repeatedly. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Alexander!” Eliza entered the room, carrying little Phil. She was flanked by Angelica, who was still in town after Philip’s funeral. Both women had tears in their eyes as they approached the hospital bed. Eliza handed little Phil off to her sister so she could take Alexander’s hand in her own. “Is he going to survive this?” She looked up at a doctor, desperation prevalent in her voice. 

The doctor sent her such a pitying look. “I’m sorry.” She said, turning away from her.

“No.” Eliza shook her head, voice breaking. “No.” She started sobbing over Alexander’s body, tears streaming down her face. “Alexander.” She gazed at his face and reached up to cup his cheek. “Alexander.” She repeated, stroking his skin with her thumb. 

Alexander’s eyes slowly fluttered open and he looked down at his wife. “Eliza?” He whispered, voice strained. He sounded like he was in so much pain. John studied his husband’s face, trying to tell if he could see him, but it didn’t appear to be so. He was almost relieved. 

“Alexander.” Eliza sighed in relief, squeezing his hand tightly. “I’m here. I’m here.” She whispered, forcing a smile for his benefit. “I’m right here.”

Alexander searched the room lazily, wincing in pain. “Where are the children?” He choked out, eyes desperate. “Where are they?”

“Angelica will get them.” Eliza said quickly, glancing up at the doctor. “May my children please be in the room?” She requested pleadingly. “Can they be with him?” The doctor nodded and Angelica immediately went to retrieve them.  Eliza turned her attention back to her husband. “They’ll be here.” She assured. “They’ll be right here.”

The children began filing into the room and Angelica lined them up around Alexander’s bed. She wanted him to see them as he died. Angelica had tears in her eyes, but she remained quiet, not wanting to take away from the moment for his immediate family. She wasn’t willing to take this moment from her sister. She took a seat beside Eliza, still holding little Phil in her lap. She forced herself to remain quiet and still, trying not to steal any attention for herself. 

Alexander gazed at the people lining his bed, forcing a strained smile. “Angie.” He whispered, reaching with his free hand for his eldest daughter. Angie appeared to be so scared, worry in her eyes. She kept looking back at John and Philip, not knowing what was happening. She was still mentally so young despite being legally an adult at her age. Tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks and she sniffled. 

“You’re gonna be okay, Papa.” She insisted. “You’re gonna be okay.” She wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve. “You’re gonna be okay.” She chewed on her lip, that threatened to quiver. “Even if you die, you’ll be with Daddy and Philip.” She whispered, smiling shakily. “They’re here.”

Alexander looked so sadly at his daughter. “I’d like to see them.” He admitted, but he didn’t know if he really believed that he would see them again. “I miss them so much.” He choked out. “So much.” He closed his eyes to fight back tears. “But I’ll miss you when I go.” He told her sadly, his eyes holding so much pain. 

“I can see Daddy and Philip.” Angie said. “I’ll be able to see you too.” She insisted, still blinking through her tears. She was crying more out of fear than anything. 

Alexander nodded, just placating his daughter. “Of course.” He pretended to agree with her. “Of course, baby girl.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll always be with you and I’ll always, always love you.” He kissed the back of her hand. “You never lose your sweetness, okay? Just continue being your sweet self. Always.” He told her before looking at the person standing beside her. “Fanny.” He smiled at her. “Brilliant, beautiful Fanny.”

Fanny laughed sadly, wiping her eyes. “Brilliant.” She echoed with a shake of her head. “Hardly.” 

“Don’t say that.” Alexander reached for her. “You are brilliant. I’ve heard how you are with music. You have true talent. Your music is truly something incredible.” He insisted, taking her hand. 

She shrugged. “That doesn’t make me brilliant.” She argued, looking at the floor. “Not like you or Philip or even JC. I’m not smart like you. I’ll never be smart like you.” 

“You don’t need to be smart like me.” Alexander said, reaching up to cup his adopted daughter’s face. “You’re smart like you. That’s all you need to be. You don’t need to write essays like I can, you can write music. You can sing and play instruments. I can’t do that. I could never do that.” He looked into her eyes. “When I tell you that you’re brilliant, I mean it. Never stop doing what you love. Never. Can you do that for me?”

Fanny nodded, a tear trickling down her cheek and sliding down her chin. “Yeah.” She whispered. “Yeah, I can do that.” She offered a shaky smile. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Alexander nodded and turned to his son that shared his name. “Alex.” He reached for him as the boy refused to cry. “My son. My brave, strong son.” 

Alex Jr. shook his head. “Papa, you shouldn’t-” He cut himself off as his voice broke. “You need to save your breath.” He insisted. 

“Don’t tell me what I need to do.” Alexander said but he was clearly just teasing. “No one can ever shut me up.” That earned a small chuckle from Eliza. “Alex, I’m so proud of you. I’m so, so proud.” He smiled at him weakly. He was growing so weak so quickly. “You’re going to do so great, Alex. The army needs more men like you.”

Alex Jr. had tears swimming in his eyes. “Thank you.” He choked out. “Thank you.” He turned away so his father couldn’t see him cry. It broke John’s heart to know that his son was afraid of being seen crying. 

Alexander turned to James. “James. Little Jamie.” His voice was so faint at this point. “What a brilliant young man you are growing to be.”

James was crying freely, unlike most of his siblings. “I wanna be like you, Papa.” He admitted, choking up. “I just wanna be like you.”

“Oh, James.” He pulled his son into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around him. “Don’t be like me. Be like you. You are so amazing just the way you are. You don’t need to be anything like me.” He insisted. “You aren’t me, you’re my son. You can do so much more than what I accomplished.” 

James shook his head, letting out a sob. “I don’t want to.” He whimpered. “I don’t want to do more. I just wanna be like you.”

Alexander pet James’ hair. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He kissed his head. “I want you to be a better man than I was. I know you can be.” He cupped his face in his hands. “My son. My wonderful son.” 

James choked on his voice, just shaking his head and stepping away. “I love you, Papa. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Alexander assured him before looking at JC. “JC, come here.” He reached for him. 

The young boy was in tears, crying more heavily than anyone in the room. He crawled onto the hospital bed and threw his arms around Alexander. “Don’t go, Papa.” He begged, his entire body shaking. “Please don’t go. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I promise that I can be good.” 

“Oh, darling.” Alexander’s voice broke. “It’s not your fault.” He held his son close. “It’s not your fault at all. None of this is your fault.” 

JC shook his head, pulling away just enough to look into his father’s eyes. “I was bad. I’m a bad person. Everyone thinks so.” He choked out, tears just streaming down his face. He hiccuped. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be good and you don’t have to go. Please don’t go. I don’t want you to.”

“I know.” Alexander soothed. “I know you don’t want me to. I don’t want to go either.” He admitted, stroking his son’s hair. “Nobody ever does, I think. We just don’t have a choice.” His eyelids were becoming heavier. “It’s not your fault, JC. It will never be your fault.” He cupped his cheek. “Okay? Listen to me.” He looked firmly into his eyes. “This isn’t your fault in absolutely any single way. It never will be.”

JC nodded slowly. “Not my fault.” He repeated. “It’s not my fault.” He took deep breaths and wiped his eyes. “Okay.” He murmured. “Okay.” He slowly climbed off of the bed, burying his face in Alex Jr’s leg. He was still trembling. John’s heart shattered at he watched his son break down.

Alexander glanced at Will, little Eliza, and little Phil. “My babies.” He reached for them, kissing each one of the head. “My children.” He finally allowed his own tears to fall. He ruffled Will’s hair. “Will you remember me, kiddo? Teach your younger siblings about me?” 

Will nodded quickly. “Yeah!” He wasn’t sad. He wasn’t crying. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. He was too young. 

“Good.” Alexander nodded. “Good.” He laid back against his pillows and exhaled. “Angelica.” He gazed at his sister-in-law. “Help Eliza care for the children.” He requested. “Help them. They’ll need you.”

Angelica nodded. “Of course, Alexander.” She bowed her head dutifully.

“And allow yourself to grieve.” He added. “Don’t bottle everything up all the time. You deserve better than that.”

Angelica’s expression softened. “Oh, Alexander-” More tears began to fall. 

“Please.” He requested, fixing her with a look. 

She nodded. “Okay.” She breathed. “Okay.”

Alexander turned to Eliza. “My Eliza.” He smiled, a real, genuine smile. “My darling Betsy.” He took her hand and squeezed it. He was growing weaker still. “Best of wives and best of women.” He kissed her knuckles. “The children need you. I’m sorry for leaving.” Eliza was unable to get the words out to respond. “I’ll see you again, when it’s your time.” He looked over at John and Philip, making eye contact with each of them. “John’s on the other side, Eliza.” He told her. “He’s with Philip. They’re waiting for me.” John just gazed into his husband’s eyes, unable to think of anything to say. “I love you. Take your time.” Alexander breathed his last and the heart monitor went flat. Alexander’s eyes were still open, still gazing into John’s. Eliza let out a sob and all of the children stood in silence. John couldn’t look away from his husband’s lifeless eyes. 

“Philip?” John turned around to see Alexander standing behind him. The new, dead Alexander who was more full of life than the corpse left behind. “John?” The man seemed to be in shock. He gazed past them to his grieving family. “Eliza.” He walked directly past John to his wife, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, my love.” His expression turned to one of utter heartbreak. “My lovely Eliza.” He kissed her head and her cheek, tears falling down his face. He glanced back up at John and Philip, who were standing silently by. Alexander didn’t say a word. 

Philip was the first to speak between them. “Hi, Pop.” He waved awkwardly, forcing a smile. “It’s good to see you.”

Alexander stood and pulled Philip into a crushing hug, wrapping his arms around him. “Philip.” He choked out. “God, look at you.” He pulled away to admire his son. “As young as the day you-” He stopped himself, not wanting to think about that. “Oh, Phil. I missed you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Philip shrugged. “It happened. I’m used to being dead by now.” He made an attempt at a joke. “It’s okay.” He pulled his father into another hug. “You named my baby brother after me.” 

Alexander nodded, his chin resting atop Philip’s curls. “I did.” He confirmed. “I hope that he grows up to be like you.” He closed his eyes. “Oh, Philip. Pip. My son. Look at my son.” He pulled away to cup his face. “My son.” He blinked through his tears. “My son.”

Philip laughed, tears in his own eyes. “Yeah. I’ve been here. I’ve always been here.” 

“You mean-”

“Angie wasn’t crazy, yeah.” Philip confirmed. “Not about me and not about Dad. We’ve been here. We’ve been watching.”

At the mention of John’s name, Alexander turned around to face his husband. “John.” He whispered, stepping towards him. 

“Hi.” John said awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He’d been waiting for this moment for so long and yet he had no idea what to do now that it had finally arrived. 

What he wasn’t expecting was to be slapped across the face with all of Alexander’s strength. John stumbled back, swearing loudly and clutching his face. 

“That’s for killing my husband.” Alexander stated plainly, Philip howling with laughter in the background. He took a few steps forward and grabbed John by the front of the shirt, yanking him into a fierce kiss. John was taken by surprise before he relaxed into it, wrapping his arms around his husband. He hadn’t kissed Alexander in eleven years. He’d forgotten what it felt like. He’d forgotten how Alexander used too much teeth, but made up for it by running his talented tongue over the spots where his teeth dug into soft skin. He’d forgotten how Alexander clung to his curls for dear life and how he threw all of his passion and spirit into a single kiss. John was so glad for the reminder. Alexander eventually pulled away, pressing his forehead against John’s and breathing heavily. “That’s for being gone for so long.” He panted, sharing breath with John. 

John grinned and held his husband close. For the first time in eleven years, he felt complete. He felt whole. He felt like maybe everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please leave comments! This was technically the last chapter, but there will be an epilogue. I know this chapter wasn't great, but tell me where I went wrong! Also put what characters you want to see in the epilogue.
> 
> Also, please, please check out my new original story if you enjoy my writing style. It's called "The Devil's in the Details" and I'm working so, so hard on it.


	31. Epilogue

John spent as much time as he could with Alexander and Philip. The three of them caught up and explained what they had seen. John had been forced to confront the deeper reasons why he had taken himself away from his family and Alexander had to face the behavior that led to him being shot in a parking garage. It wasn’t all bad, though, at least not to John. He found a bit of happiness watching the people he loved moved on with their lives. Alexander was by his side and the world just kept turning without them. That wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Lafayette had been in intense emotional distress upon hearing of Alexander’s death. He’d had a complete mental breakdown, unable to breathe or speak for hours. Not even Hercules or Adrienne could get through to him. It seemed impossible. After the initial panic had passed, it was replaced with a morose depression. He was unable to comprehend any language other than French and he locked himself in his room. He didn’t emerge except to use the bathroom and go to therapy. He admitted to his therapist that he had never fully recovered from the trauma of finding John’s body. He still had nightmares from it. He was still so haunted. He admitted that a part of him blamed himself for John’s death; he believed that if he had gotten there sooner or checked up on him more, then maybe he could have prevented it. It broke John’s heart to hear that his best friend was still blaming himself for an event that had occured over a decade ago.

It took him months to recover from Alexander’s death, struggling to get through even basic daily tasks. He had deflated, become a shell of his former self. It wasn’t unlike his response to John’s death. His nightmares had returned at full-force, causing him to wake up at the wee hours of the night whenever he could actually get to sleep He went back to not allowing the bathroom door to be closed and he wouldn’t allow either of his partners to leave his side. He was scared and paranoid and so, so frightened. It was depressing to watch.

He eventually recovered, even if it took a great deal of work. He relied heavily on his partners, but he managed to pull through it. He became an advocate for mental health awareness. He spoke out about his experiences with mental illness and how he had lost his best friend to suicide. He spoke to therapists and to people struggling with suicidal thoughts. He became a beacon of hope for many people. He was a kind, shining light that many people needed.

Lafayette spent a great deal of time with his family, cherishing them. He struggled with PTSD symptoms from John and Alexander’s deaths for the rest of his life, but he battled them bravely. He dedicated his life to helping other people, wanting to do something his friends would be proud of. John was proud. He was so, so proud.

Hercules was dealing with things in his own way. He did his best to take care of Lafayette on his own, but he was struggling with it. He relied on Adrienne for a great deal of emotional support. He hid his own emotions, shoving them aside in favor of taking care of his boyfriend. He spent a great deal of time with Peggy, who had become his closest friend after Alexander’s death. The two of them leaned on each other and she was the only person he allowed himself to cry around.

He continued working on his own clothing shop. He took orders and worked his ass off to make designs that people enjoyed. He loved his work, even if he felt like he was drowning in it at times. He opened his own shop where Peggy was happy to work alongside him. The orders kept piling up and he kept having to hire more employees to keep on top of demand. He’d had to buy more equipment and pay for advertising and his shop slowly lost more of its original quality. It didn’t seem to be that big of a problem for him. He was just happy to be growing in popularity.

His work was growing, but he was doing his best to catch up. He enjoyed working, especially with the people he had on his staff. He loved his employees; they became his friends. They became his family. He trusted them and was there for them when they needed him. He was like a father figure to so many of them, as they were usually much younger and he was an authority figure. He was someone they could lean on when they were in need of it.

Hercules spent the rest of his life working and taking care of the less fortunate. He supported his own children as well, always being there for them. He did the same for the Lafayette children. He was always supporting them no matter what happened. He helped them through their own grieving process. He spent the rest of his life running his own business and growing it while still supporting those who needed him. It was a strong life, one not so different from the rest. He was a smart and helpful man until his very end.

Adrienne de Lafayette grieved alongside her husband, spending most of her time helping Hercules take care of her husband. She would sing him to sleep and play with his hair. She continued going to work when she was able, but she spent most of her time with her family. She didn’t want to miss a moment with them just in case something happened to them. She wouldn’t miss anything, she refused to. She needed to be with her family as often as she could possibly manage.

She helped John W. through his grieving, knowing that he was still a mess after Charles Adams’ death. He hadn’t quite recovered, so Adrienne would stay by his side for as long as he needed her. She allowed him to move in with her family, so she could watch over him. She was extremely worried for him. He had lost his partner to suicide and she’d seen what that could do to people. John W. deserved someone being there for them.

She went on to talk out about being a supporter of those who were suffering with mental illness. She would give speeches on how to care for a disabled love one or how to help those with trauma after a loved one's death. She campaigned for women’s rights and mental health in both America and France. She made a big difference where it mattered. John was proud of her for reaching so far.

Peggy Schuyler stayed mostly with the Lafayettes and Hercules. She and Adrienne’s relationship continued strong for years. There was a time during which the two of them were broken up, but they remained close friends throughout the period and got back together the next year. Peggy mourned her brother in-law, but pulled through it. She grieved by being alone and sorting things out in her own way. She was a rather strong woman, able to get through whatever bothered her on her own. It probably wasn’t the healthiest way of dealing with things, but it worked for her.

She spent most of her time working for Hercules or spending time with her sisters when she could. She went out of her way to visit the other Schuylers at least once a year to be with them. The three of them appeared to be closer than ever after Alexander’s death. Peggy helped Eliza care for the children when it proved to be overwhelming for her. She did her best to be a supportive and caring younger sister.

Unfortunately, she passed away a few years after Alexander’s death. She had lived a wonderful and full life before dying with few regrets. Her funeral had been full of people who had so much as met her. It proved just how influential a person she was while she was alive. It had been beautiful and very spiritual. So many people had wonderful things to say about her. She had been so friendly and touched so many people’s lives.

The woman formerly known as Maria Reynolds was so much happier than she had been when she’d had that last name. She lived with her new wife, who made her feel special and important. She was open about how she had Alexander to thank for her better life. If she had never met him, she would never have met Martha Manning, who had changed her life for the best. Martha and Maria loved each other more than the world, just as they loved each other’s children.

Maria adored Frances Eleanor, constantly supporting her art career and giving her relationship advice. She loved her almost as much as she loved her own daughter, who she was constantly worried for. She was disappointed that her daughter had decided to drop out of school to pursue a music career and a romantic relationship, but she did her best to support her anyway. Maria and Susan had their fights - quite a few of them - but they always made up in the end. Susan had run away to live with her girlfriend for a month, but she returned home before long. Maria loved her daughter, no matter the mistakes she made.

She was more than happy to be a housewife. She was pleased to be able to support her wife and children before anything else. She’d testified against her former husband in court and had watched him get locked up for twenty years for domestic abuse thanks to her. She had never felt so accomplished than she had on the day the verdict was read. She spent the rest of her life making herself and her family happy. She didn’t want to be anything bigger or do anything more. She was content to make herself happy for once.

Martha Manning adored her wife and was so appreciative of her. She mourned Alexander for an appropriate amount of time, mostly concerned for the children he had left behind. She made frequent visits to the Hamilton family, spending as much time with them as she was able. She knew that they needed someone there for them and she viewed herself as an extended piece of their family. She encouraged her daughter’s love of art and nurtured her ambition. She wanted to see Frances succeed more than anything. She did the same for Susan, building up her self-esteem about her music and searching for other educational opportunities that didn’t require a high-school degree for her. She wanted to see her step-daughter grow and thrive as much as her own daughter did. She showed Frances Antill many of the same opportunities. Every person deserved a chance for further education in her opinion.

She continued her veterinarian career, rising up to assist many hurt and ill animals. She took pride in her work and the hardships were made worth it every time she saw an owner reunited with their healthy pet. It brought a smile to her face and warmth to her heart. She adored helping those who couldn’t help themselves, which extended to creatures in other people’s care. Her work brought her joy and it was enough to support herself, her wife, and their children.

The rest of her life was spent in comfort. She grew closer with the Hamilton family, especially the children. She continued working while still providing for her wife and children. She gave to others when she could afford to, wanting to help everyone around her. She was happy just to help when she could and take care of herself when she needed to. That worked well enough for her.

Thomas Jefferson reacted more strongly to Alexander’s death than John had expected. He seemed deflated by it, working less and appearing more worn out at all hours of the day. Much like Lafayette, he dressed less flamboyantly; though less noticeably so. Jefferson was determined to maintain appearances, even when slacking. It was simple things, things like missing a button on his shirt or his tie hanging looser than usual. It was obvious that he was more affected than he wanted to let on.

He spent much more time with his daughters after Alexander’s death, being afraid of losing them. He’d already lost his own wife and several children. He didn’t want to regret not spending enough time with them if something ever happened to them. He adored his daughters, cherished them. It was plain for anyone to see just how much he loved them. He visited their families at least twice a month. He played with his oldest daughter’s children as if he was a much younger man. He gained more energy around his grandchildren than he showed at any other time. He would visit Mary and Frances Eleanor, supporting their relationship if it made Mary happy, which it did.

Jefferson continued his good work, rising up the ranks in his career. He was talented in what he did; that couldn’t be denied. He started giving Alexander more credit for the work that he did. Jefferson was a good man, even if he didn’t always act it. He was a good employee, a good father, and a good man. Sometimes he just lost his way. Sometimes he lost it in unforgivable ways, but he was a good man. A great man.

James Madison showed less respect for Alexander’s memory. He was rather standoffish, as usual. It appeared as though Alexander’s death had no effect on him. Nothing had changed for him at all. He complained about the growing pile of work handed to him due to Alexander’s death and Burr’s arrest. He made remarks about Jefferson’s disheveled appearance, almost mockingly so. He was completely disrespectful. John didn’t like it one bit.

He spent no more time with his wife or his step-child. He worked at the same pace as always. He didn’t even attend the funeral. He treated Alexander’s memory and legacy as if it was completely worthless. It didn’t seem to bother him that he was dead in the least. He still talked shit about him as if he was still alive and kicking. Alexander was furious at him for it.

The man continued working, contributing much to the company and being a faithful worker. Everything he did was for his own best interests, just as he always lived. Nothing else and nobody else mattered to him. He gave Alexander minimum credit and stole the credit when he could. It was proof that death didn’t affect everyone as strongly as some.

Martha Washington didn’t have much life left, but she refused to squander even a single moment of it. She spread her husband’s influence as far as she could. She donated much of her money to various charities. She was unwilling to keep even a cent that she didn’t need. She founded her own charity in her husband’s name, hoping that people would smile when they thought of him. She believed that he deserved that much.

She helped Eliza spread word of Alexander’s achievements as well, believing that would be what Alexander wanted. They weren’t too far off, as Alexander took great pleasure in seeing how his legacy grew even after his death. Mrs. Washington wanted the dead to lay peacefully and she believed that could be achieved by doing what they would have wanted in life.

Her children were all by her side when she died. They made a lovely memorial in her honor and many people attended. She was buried beside her husband to lay forever at rest. John hoped that they were together somewhere. He had no idea if they were, but he hoped so. They deserved to be together. He had no doubt that they would be happy if they were together.

George Eacker was arrested on the day he killed Philip. John and Philip kept up with his case, not wanting him to be able to slip through the system. There was discussion of mental illness rather than of gun control. It infuriated John to see that some people cared more about his son’s murderer than the death of his son. Several students had to testify, including young Theo Burr. The poor girl had erupted into tears, being in such an unstable state due to Philip’s death and her father’s arrest.

Eacker put on tears and made excuses, pretending to regret what he had caused. Maybe he wasn’t pretending, but John didn’t care. He didn’t care how much the boy regretted it, Philip was still dead. John wanted to see the man punished. He deserved to be punished for all of the damage he had caused. Besides Philip, Eacker had killed a student and a teacher, injuring three other students. Philip watched as the families of his deceased classmate testified against the monster who had shot him. He’d witnessed Eliza have to take the stand and explain how she had lost her son and her husband barely a year apart. John wanted the man to burn.

He was sentenced to fifteen years in prison. That wasn’t nearly enough in John’s opinion, but at least he was being punished. Maybe one day he’d grow to be a better person, but John doubted it. He just didn’t want the man to be able to hurt anyone ever again. Philip was incredibly satisfied by the sentencing. He rightfully believed that he should get life behind bars after what he did, but his young age and “history of mental” illness was taken into account. At least he was paying for what he did. He was a monster.

Angelica Schuyler-Church stood by her sister’s side for every step of the grieving process. She refused to abandon her for even a moment. She tried to follow Alexander’s request of taking care of herself, but it simply wasn’t that easy for her. In her eyes, Eliza was more important than her in every way. She just wanted to support her before she took any time for herself. That was just how she thought it should be. She was the oldest sister, she was the one who needed to protect the others. That was her role in life. That didn’t change with Alexander’s death, it didn’t change a bit. She had loved her brother in-law fiercely, thinking the world of him, and she was hurt by his death, but she knew that Eliza was hurting far worse. Eliza was who she viewed as the most important.

She didn’t allow herself to break down until Peggy’s death; after which, she had a mental break. She cried for longer than John had ever seen her, finally falling apart at the seams. She was distressed, lost without one of her sisters. In her eyes, she had failed by allowing one of her siblings to die before her. She had spent so much time with Peggy, never allowing her to doubt her everlasting love for her, but still she felt that she should have done more. She always felt like she should have done more. Peggy deserved better. She deserved the world. Angelica wasn’t enough.

She helped Eliza and Mrs. Washington spread Alexander’s legacy while she was alive. She spread feminist ideas to places where they didn’t exist before. She had a far-reaching and helpful career that affected so many people around the world. She did so much with her life and yet she never saw it as enough. When she died, she was buried in the same cemetery as Alexander. It was what she wanted. Alexander had been so disappointed when he couldn’t seen any apparition of Angelica. As much as she believed that she hadn’t done enough, it was truth enough to say that she absolutely had.

The children were growing up on their own and alongside each other. They became their own people and had their own work and relationships. It brought a tear to John’s eye as he watched them.

Anastasie de Lafayette fell in love with William Cooke Mulligan and the two of them eventually were married. It was a bit awkward, as their parents were partners, but they didn’t consider themself to be related in any way as they did not grow up together or have any real familial connections. They were happy together, raising three children and growing further in each of their careers. Anastasie proved to be an influential woman, fighting for LGBTQ+ rights around the world. She was powerful and she knew it. She eventually reconnected with Frances Eleanor, the two of them becoming good friends again. It seemed to put Anna at ease to have befriended Frances again, letting bygones be bygones. The two of them grew up to live separate lives, but the two of them were happy. That was all anyone could want.

Virginie de Lafayette came out as asexual and aromantic, having no interest in claiming a romantic partner of her own. She was happy pursuing a grand career and caring for her parents. She mostly took after her mother, accompanying her on trips around the world. She did a lot of humanitarian work, wanting to dedicate her life to helping people. She was a brilliant woman and she knew when to be kind versus when to be stirn. John was impressed by her.

Georges de Lafayette stayed by Theodosia Burr Jr’s side for the rest of their lives. He supported her at every turn, making her smile even when she believed that it was impossible for her to do so. He cherished and adored her. He saw the entire universe in her eyes. He defended her from those who compared her to her father and he held her close when she needed to talk about how her father’s actions had changed her. He truly loved her. He proposed to her a year after her father was arrested exactly. He wanted her to associate the day with positive memories rather than traumatizing ones.

She had said yes immediately. She had thrown her arms around him and cried for half an hour before Georges could even slip the ring onto her finger. They had both been overjoyed and were married within the year. Some members of their family believed that they were moving too quickly, but they didn’t care. They were happy together. The two of them had a daughter who they named Theodosia, after Theo’s mother. Theodosia Adrienne Rachel de Lafayette. The Rachel was added after Philip’s grandmother. If she had been a boy, her name would have been Philip. When Philip heard this, he had burst into tears. He had cried during their entire wedding, as they devoted vows to him. He couldn’t believe that they had found happiness in each other when he had loved them both so much.

Frances Eleanor never married Mary Jefferson, but the two of them never broke up. They stayed at each other’s sides at all times. They remained happy together. Frances followed her artistic talent and became a rather influential artist. She painted portraits about feminism, lesbianism, suicide, mental health, abandonment, and trauma. They were beautiful pieces, if haunting. They were the type of paintings that stayed with someone for years after viewing them. They were beautiful and Frances ended up making a small fortune off of them. She was proud of her work, as she should be. She carried that pride with ehr for the rest of her life. She used them to project her trauma from her father’s abandonment of her and her own struggle with mental health and suicidal idealation. She only improved with each piece she created, truly mastering her skills. It was truly extraordinary to behold. John was so, so proud of her. He hoped that she knew that. A part of him convinced himself that she knew, deep down, that John was always so proud of everything she did.

Angie couldn’t see Alexander like she could see John and Philip. John didn’t know why; nobody did. Alexander was extremely disappointed by this revelation, wanting to be able to communicate with his daughter like they could. It was hurtful to him that she couldn’t see or hear him. Angie never did grow any older; at least, not mentally. She remained forever a child, even as her body aged. She was forever sweet and innocent and so blissfully childish. She never felt the need to fear the world around her, she never was invested in politics, she just lived her life how she thought her life should be lived. She was happy with that. She was happy talking with her father and brother that nobody else could see. She just didn’t mind it like she might have if she truly saw herself as an adult. She continued living with Eliza long after her siblings grew towards their own lives. John thought that it was probably a good thing. Eliza needed someone there for her and Angie would never stop loving or needing her.

Fanny continued her pursuit of a musical career along with Susan Reynolds. Most of the other members of the original band dropped out in favor of more realistic jobs, but the two of them never came up. They fought frequently - probably more frequently than was healthy - but they made up at the end. They were both extremely temperamental women with a variety of their own issues. They worked through them together whenever they weren’t fighting; however. Susan eventually took Martha Manning up on her offer to resume her education. She stopped with the band, but Fanny kept at it. Fanny had been furious with Susan for leaving the band at first, but they eventually reconciled. Fanny stayed in her band, picking up new people to join. It never really picked up much, but it gained local popularity and made enough money to support itself. Whenever it didn’t, Fanny asked for money from others. It wasn’t a big deal to her as long as she was doing what she loved.

Alex Jr. enlisted in the army as soon as he was able to. He fought for his country bravely and with passion. What he did was dangerous, but he truly saw it as necessary and important. He viewed his work as important and by extension, he saw himself as important. He wanted to be important. There was nothing wrong with wanting to feel important and wanting to feel as though he was giving back to the country he was from. He remained patriotic throughout his entire life, never backing down with his American pride. He eventually met and fell in love with a woman named Elizabeth who he settled down with. He was happy with her and their children. He eventually retired from the army after years of service so he could be with his family. He was someone who John could absolutely be proud of.

James grew up to have rich career in politics. He became Secretary of State for President Andrew Jackson, much to Alexander’s shock and joy. The boy loved politics, living and breathing them every second of his life. The President he served went against many of his family’s views, but he remained loyal to him despite certain people’s distrust. Politics were his life and he truly believed that he was making the world a better place with what he was doing. He’d never seen Alexander so proud. James never married or had children, too busy with his work to consider it. John didn’t mind as long as his son was happy.

JC eventually started going by the name of John again and he began writing novels. He cut his toxic friends out of his life and wrote a book about his family experiences, telling the story of his father’s suicide and how it affected friends and family for years afterwards. It ended up being a bestseller and JC made almost a million dollars from it. He was extremely popular due to how real and emotionally devastating his story was. He didn’t skip on the details, having gone around to each person affected to question them on how they had reacted to the deaths of John, Philip, and Alexander individual. Apparently, it had helped many people through their grief. Alexander thought it was mostly a cash grab, but John believed that JC just wanted to share his story. It was an inspirational story that John was glad that his son was telling, especially if it ended up helping people. People deserved to have hope.

William ended up probably the least well off of all of the Hamilton children. He thought that he had a great plan of how to strike it rich and had moved to Las Vegas to spend all of his savings gambling. It hadn’t gone well for him. He ended up broke and stranded with nowhere to go. He thought that he could get loans and invest further in gambling. He was entirely addicted to gambling to a dangerous degree and every time he made any money, he threw it all away again. It was hard to watch as he begged Eliza for money every single time he saw her. It broke his heart when she eventually started having to tell him no. The boy was throwing his life away in favor of desperately attempting to become rich. John wished that he could see that it simply wasn’t realistic. He wanted his son to be happy, but this wasn’t making him happy.

Little Eliza ended up taking after her mother’s parental nature. She became Angie’s caretaker when her mother grew too old to care for her properly and she adopted several children of her own. She never felt any romantic attraction towards anyone, but she didn’t need a partner to raise her children. Not only was she a mothering figure, but she was also a brilliant pianist. She loved how music could pour from her fingertips. She was truly talented at what she did. She was sweet and caring, knowing how to care for the people around her. She loved her siblings and she loved children and animals. She did her best to care for those who couldn’t care for themselves.

LIttle Phil proved himself to be absolutely brilliant. He was by far the smartest child in his classes throughout his life, soaring above without even trying. He was truly outstanding, not having to try to be the best. He could be cocky at times, but it was never intentional. He simply didn’t understand why he had to hide the fact that he was smart. He didn’t understand that it made other people feel bad. He spent a great deal of time assisting Hercules in his shop. He loved both making and modeling clothing. He became a doctor and married a lovely man who treated him like he had hung the stars in the sky. He was truly happy, which is all that John wanted for him.

Burr was arrested on site after shooting Alexander. He was sentenced to life in prison, where he would stay. He would be visited by nobody but his daughter. No one else seemed to care that he was there. He was abandoned by everyone else, or maybe there was nowhere there in the first place. John almost felt bad for him. He had only one person in the world who cared enough to even visit him. He wondered if his wife was watching him. He hoped so. No one deserved to be completely alone. John wanted to visit him sometimes, but he promised Alexander that he wouldn’t, so he didn’t. He wondered if he regretted what he’d done. He thought that he probably did.

Eliza spent the rest of her life living for her husband and her children. She took care of her children and spread the word of Alexander. She lived to be in her eighties before she laid on her deathbed. Her children surrounded her as she said her goodbyes before closing her eyes for the last time and taking her last breath.

When she materialized before them and greeted Alexander, she burst into tears. They embraced Alexander and Philip before extending an arm for John. As he joined them in a hug, he felt truly a part of something. He closed his eyes and didn’t open them again on Earth.

 


	32. Author's Note

I'm super sorry that this isn't a new chapter! There are just a few works that I wanted to advertise. I promise that I'm working on that bonus chapter, I just want to make it as good as possible for you! In the meantime, I've been working on a few other things. 

 

If anyone is curious, I have quite a few original works that I'd love, love,  _love_ people to check out. 

 

The Knight and The Heir: 

Ali Lake never asked to be the bastard of the King. They never wanted it.

They were perfectly happy pretending that they simply had no father to speak of. It wasn't as if it impacted their life terribly. The only difference it made was the townspeople accusing their mother of being a whore and the small amount of coin that the King's messenger brought each month in exchange for their silence.

Ali was perfectly content with living life as nothing more than a peasant and they expected that would be all they ever were.  
That is, until all of the King's legitimate children were either killed or kidnapped, leaving no heir to the throne. As the King grows more feeble in his old age, an heir is necessary for the survival of the kingdom.

Which is how Ali is brought to the castle against their will and is expected to learn the ways of royalty.  
Ali never wanted to rule a kingdom. They never wanted this, but now they have no choice. They've already decided that nothing in this castle could make it worth staying,

Nothing, that is, besides a knight in training with an eye-patch and a bad attitude, who might just be willing to set the whole system ablaze.

 

To Be Free: 

Freedom should be something simple. It should be something given to everyone at birth. It should be something given to every person, not just a select few.

Boston Carrigan was willing to fight for his freedom. For the freedom of America. He was willing to stand beside his fellow soldiers, even if not everyone thought that he was the type of person who deserved freedom.

Everywhere he looked, he saw a lack of freedom. He saw the mistreatment of mages, of the Mystic, of slaves. So many claimed to fight for freedom,

But what does freedom mean to them?

 

The Devil's in the Details: 

Anis Kadar was a regular college student with regular college problems: Struggling to keep on top of a large workload from school, balancing school and a social life, trying to keep up with a part-time job, and maintaining a decent relationship with a spirit of evil. Ordinary college things.

Okay, so maybe his college life wasn’t as ordinary as it started out.

After signing a contract with a spirit of chaos without reading the fine print, Anis ends up with the monarch of darkness as a college roommate, sending his freshman year into utter chaos. He expected college to be different from high school, but this was beyond his wildest dreams and his darkest nightmares.

 

 

I also have Hamilton fanfictions that I'm working on, including a sequel to this one called "Live Past Our Glory"!! I also have:

 

Tomorrow There's Still Us:

In a time where a select few have memories of their past lives, there’s doubt and speculation over if the phenomenon is even real. Alexander Hamilton knows better. He knows that his memories are real, even if those he cares most about don’t.

Or: Another Hamilton Reincarnation AU

 

Cotton: 

"This song is for the people  
Who tell their families that they're sorry  
For things they can't and won't feel sorry for."  
-Cotton by The Mountain Goats

John Laurens decides it's time to come out to his family with some help from his partners.

 

The King Makes Three: 

Sam Seabury, Charles Lee, and George King are happy together. Or at least, that's what they convince themselves.

That all changes when Sam shares a secret that George isn't too happy about. His true colors being shown, he isn't the man his partners once thought him to be.

Charles and Sam want out, but leaving George behind isn't as easy as they think it should be.

 

Little Red:

Maria Lewis wants nothing in the world except for her daughter. Her daughter is everything in the world to her, so if she has to give up a social life and hope for romance and just about everything else so she can keep her away from her abusive ex-husband, so be it. She can live with that.

Or, she could until she met one Martha Manning, who teaches her that maybe she doesn't have to choose between her own happiness and the happiness of her daughter.

 

I also have a book of Next-Gen Hamilton one-shots! 

 

Please, please check those out! I love writing and I want to give you guys something entertaining while you wait for me to actually do that bonus chapter, plus feedback keeps me invested in my writing and the fans of this story have treated me so, so well when it comes to feedback. Also, don't be afraid to share this around and promote it! You guys make me so, so happy! Thank you all for taking the time to read this and possibly my other stories. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please, please comment! Comments help me out so much as a writer! They make me update faster and have more motivation to write! Even if it's just telling me how you're enjoying it, telling me what I could fix, or guessing what might happen next! Any feedback is appreciated!


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